Force of Instinct
by Bad Faery
Summary: Rush has an unusual reaction to a plant found during a mission, and Belle gets to deal with the fallout. Possibly dub-con-y although neither participant is doing it intentionally.
1. Chapter 1

"Belle?" Eli's worried voice took her attention away from the console she'd been working on in Rush's absence, the doctor having left strict instructions for what she was to do while he was planet-side. After six months as his assistant, Rush was finally starting to actually trust her competence, and his approbation meant all the more to Belle for how rare it was.

"What is it, Eli?" she asked, looking up with a smile. Even though she was filling in for Rush there was no need to adopt his impatience.

In the doorway, Eli looked uncomfortable. "I think you'd better come to the infirmary," he told her, elaborating at her blank look, "It's Rush."

"What happened?" Belle was on her feet at once and moving fast, Eli having to scurry to keep up. Physically, Rush was the healthiest he'd been since she met him, although they'd spent three months butting heads until he finally gave into her insistence that he both eat and sleep on a regular basis. He'd never admit it, but she knew he felt better for it.

"There was this plant," he began, before shaking his head, "I think you'd better see for yourself."

Once they finally reached the infirmary, Belle wasn't sure _what_ she was seeing. Rush was crouched in the far corner of the room, poised like he was ready to run and breathing hard, his hair hanging in his face. Greer stood a few steps in front of him, an immovable object with his gun trained squarely on the other man, his body shielding TJ who stood just behind him. Rush's eyes went back and forth between the two, no recognition in them. He looked like nothing more than a hunted animal.

Eli made himself scarce as she stepped forward. "What's going _on_?" her voice split the strained silence before she could think better of it, and Rush's eyes immediately focused on her. He scrambled toward her with a growl managing only a few steps before Greer's boot caught him in the chest and shoved him backwards, not hard enough to do any damage, just keeping him in his corner. Rush bared his teeth with an audible snarl before training his attention on her once more, a high whine emanating from his chest.

"Greer, what are you doing?" she asked in horror, advancing on the three of them. Greer had never been one of Rush's biggest fans, but this was too much even for him.

He held his hand out when she would have darted past him, and Rush growled again when the bigger man touched her. "Stay behind me. Something's wrong with him. He tried to bite TJ."

"Tried to bite..." Belle shook her head, wondering if she'd gone mad when she wasn't paying attention. Rush was huddled in his corner, visibly shaking and staring at her like a hungry dog would eye a juicy bone. His eyes were huge and wild behind his hair, and the whining noise was back. All in all, there was no trace of the Doctor Rush she knew, and Belle was reminded of nothing more than one of her father's hunting dogs that had been wounded during a boar hunt. The animal had been crazed with pain, but still just tame enough not to bite those who had raised it. Then again, Rush had tried to bite TJ, so perhaps he was past that point.

Ignoring both Greer and TJ for the moment, Belle knelt down to put herself on Rush's level. His eyes followed her every moment, unblinking. "Nick..." she said, trying to keep her voice pitched low and soothing, "Do you know where you are? You're safe here. We're going to help you."

"We tried that. It didn't really work," TJ said wryly from somewhere above her, but Belle thought he was trembling a little less.

"You're okay, Nick. No one's going to hurt you. We're friends." Greer snorted a little, and Belle had to admit that was an overstatement, but it was the thought that counted. "Do you know who I am?" she prompted, wondering how much of Rush was actually present right now.

Rush seemed to give real thought to her question, some of the tension ebbing away. "Belle," he said finally, voice rusty.

"That's right," she beamed, hoping belatedly that he wouldn't take her showing her teeth as a threat. "I'm Belle, and you're Nick, and you're going to be _fine_."

"Belle," he repeated a little more clearly, his gaze unwavering. Then he _lunged_.

The sound of a gun being cocked was audible even over Belle's yelp of surprise, but there was no danger for her here she realized immediately. "Stop!" she waved Greer off before the other man could act, then her attention was taken completely by the lapful of Nicholas Rush she suddenly found herself with. He was wrapped around her like a friendly octopus, his face buried against her throat as he whimpered quietly.

Acting on instinct, she put her arms around him, holding him as closely as she could and rocking a little, soothing him like a child. "It's okay, Nick. It's okay. I'm here. I've got you. You're okay."

He snuffled at her neck like he was trying to breathe her in, then a warm tongue snaked over her throat. Murmuring a little to himself, Rush repeated the action, licking her in long strokes, and Belle wondered a little hysterically if he was grooming her or getting ready to eat her. If he decided to take a bite out of her neck, things could get very bad very quickly, but he was relaxing more with every lick, his hands moving restlessly over her back.

"Okay, that's weird," Greer muttered, and Rush's head jerked up at the other man's voice. With a snarl, he tore himself away from Belle and shoved her closer to the wall, planting himself between her and Greer, his unwavering attention fixed on the other man. Any steps he'd made toward calming down disappeared in an instant, tension visibly crackling through him.

"Greer, you're upsetting him," Belle pleaded, motioning for the other man to back off.

"Yeah, he's kind of freaking me out too," Greer retorted, holding his ground although he stopped pointing the gun at Rush, which Belle considered progress.

Belle got up on her knees and put her hand on Rush's shoulder, trying to calm him down. It had worked before. "It's okay, Nick. He won't hurt you." Beneath her hand, he was vibrating with tension, and she moved closer, using both hands to rub his shoulders. "You're safe here," she whispered in his ear.

He turned his head into her, breathing sharply, still watching Greer out of the corner of his eye. "Greer, why don't you head out?" she suggested, keeping her voice pitched low.

"Only if you and TJ come with me," he said implacably. He'd decided Rush was a threat, and nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

"He can't be on his own, not like this," Belle argued. Massaging Nick's shoulders wasn't accomplishing anything, so she tried stroking his hair and neck instead. Since he was acting like an animal, perhaps he'd enjoy being petted like one. "TJ, can't you do something for him?"

"I don't even know what's wrong with him," the blond woman sighed. "When I tried to examine him, he sort of lost it."

"Okay," Belle sighed. Nick was still coiled like he was ready to spring, and the only time he'd seemed the slightest bit at ease was when he'd been in her arms. Apparently he considered her an ally. Maybe she could use that. "Could you give us some space? Please? Greer, you can shoot him from across the room if you need to."

After exchanging a look the pair reluctantly backed off, retreating to the other side of the infirmary where they were still within sight, but out Nick's immediate purview. His shoulders relaxed a little. "That's better, isn't it?" Belle crooned, coaxing him to face her.

He was still breathing too hard, but once he was looking at her Rush seemed more at ease. Belle sat down on the floor, her knees aching, and leaned against the wall, holding her arms out to him. "Come here, Nick."

A moment later he was half in her lap, burying his face against her throat as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling like she was on the verge of tears. "That's right, Nick. You're okay. I've got you." Rush- cranky, self-sufficient Rush- was clinging to her like a child, and her heart broke for him. She kissed the top of his head and hugged him closer, feeling his muscles start to relax.

She just held him for long minutes until his breathing had slowed to normal and he no longer felt like he was about to fly apart in her embrace. Once she was satisfied he was calm, Belle asked, "Nick? Did something happen on the planet?"

She wasn't sure how much he remembered, but it was worth a try and her experiment paid off when he held his left hand up for her inspection. There was a perfect circle of tiny thorns embedded in his palm, and she took his hand in hers to look closer. "Oh, Nick," she breathed, lifting his hand to her mouth to kiss his palm near the thorns. Rush whimpered.

"TJ, he's got thorns in his hand," Belle said, never taking her eyes off Rush and speaking in the same soothing voice. "Should I try to get them out?"

"Pull one and see what happens," the medic answered her, and Belle considered it a minor victory when Nick didn't pull himself out of her arms, just turned his head toward her voice. "Wear gloves. Here..."

Slowly, TJ moved along the perimeter of the room, fetching gloves and a pair of tweezers for Belle who stroked Rush's hair, speaking quietly in an effort to keep his attention on her. "That's just TJ. She won't hurt you. She's trying to help. Don't worry. No one's going to hurt you."

Although Rush watched the blond woman suspiciously, he made no move to attack or intimidate her, and Belle praised him lavishly, "That's good, Nick. You're being so good. I'm so proud of you." TJ kept her head down submissively as she placed the supplies near Belle, backing away as soon as possible, and Belle was delighted to have escaped the situation without incident.

Rush grumbled when she unwrapped her arms from his body to pull on the gloves, pressing himself tighter against her. "Give me your hand, Nick," she prompted, picking up the tweezers TJ had provided. He obeyed, and Belle ran her thumb gently over the thorns, feeling the slight bumps. They didn't seem to hurt him.

As gently as she could, she took hold of the first thorn and pulled, relieved when it slid out easily, followed by a slight trickle of blood. Belle looked closely, not seeing any sign of pus or discoloration and a sniff yielded nothing unusual. "It came right out. Looks normal."

"Go ahead and pull them all then," TJ told her, and Belle complied, dropping the thorns into a small plastic dish as she kept up her litany of soothing nonsense. "You're doing so well, Nick. We're almost done. You'll feel better soon."

Once the thorns had been removed, Belle cleaned his palm with antiseptic which made Rush hiss and squirm until she kissed his forehead. "Almost over, sweetheart," she crooned, thinking that the real Rush would take her head off for talking to him like a toddler. This Rush simply butted against her like an attention-starved cat.

She bandaged his hand and pulled off the gloves. Rush snuggled into her again, and she put her arms around him, hoping that with the thorns removed whatever was wrong with him would right itself quickly.

TJ swept in to pick up the dish, and Rush didn't even react to her presence, lying bonelessly in Belle's lap. "Think he'll let me take a blood sample?"

"We can try." The odds of him cooperating seemed considerably better than when she'd first walked into the infirmary. "Nick, TJ needs to get a blood sample. It'll only take a second. Will you let her do it?"

Dark eyes stared back uncomprehendingly, and Belle sighed. "Let her see your arm." Belle held her own arm out, showing him what she wanted him to do, and he mimicked her with a wary glance at TJ.

"Look at me, Nick," Belle called, leaning closer until their foreheads rested against each other. "Just look at me. It'll hurt for a second and I'm sorry, but then it'll be over." She could tell the moment TJ took the sample, because Rush jerked and growled, giving her a look of such wounded betrayal that Belle wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

She buried her hands in his hair, holding him close. "All done, all done. It's over now." She kissed his cheek, "You did beautifully."

With a dark look at TJ, Rush subsided again, his face hot against the curve of her throat. Humming a half-remembered lullaby, Belle stroked his hair and rubbed his back, as TJ set to work trying to figure out what had happened.

Finally, TJ looked up from her task. "For what I can tell, he's having an allergic reaction to whatever those thorns are. His body doesn't seem to think it's overly serious, so that's a good sign. It's almost like the equivalent of poison ivy."

"So, why's he acting like he belongs in a zoo instead of scratching?" Greer asked, and Belle jumped. She'd nearly forgotten the other man was there. A low growl started in Rush's chest at the question, and Belle rubbed his neck.

"Now, stop that," she admonished and blinked in surprise when it seemed to work.

"Hell if I know. It's inhibiting his neocortex and overstimulating his hypothalamus." At the blank looks she got from Belle and Greer, TJ explained, "He can't think, and it's ratcheting up all his most basic instincts. Hence, man-beast Rush."

"Poor Nick," Belle murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "What do we do?"

"Let it run its course?" TJ said helplessly. "Now that the stimulus is gone, the reaction should go away on its own eventually. I could sedate him, but you seem to have him pretty well calmed down."

Before Belle could ask how long it would take for the reaction to run its course, a new voice joined them, Young striding into the infirmary. "Did you fix him yet?"

Nick was out of her lap and on his feet in an instant, his hands grabbing her upper arms hard enough to bruise and pulling her up with him before he slammed her against the wall and crowded in front of her, his back against her chest as he focused on Young. Belle couldn't help her pained yelp as the back of her head hit the wall, and both Greer and TJ started for her, coming up short when Rush snarled at them.

"I'll take that as a no," Young muttered. "You okay?"

The pain in her head was fading to a dull ache, and Belle lifted her hand to make certain no real damage had been done. She'd probably wind up with a bump, but there was no blood on her fingers when she looked. "I'm fine."

"Rush, why don't you let Belle go?" TJ suggested. Rush ignored her.

"If I distract him, can you get away?" Greer asked her, and Belle nodded. Rush wasn't trying to hurt her, she was certain of that, but the thought that he might do so by accident wasn't comforting, and her presence was certainly not helping any longer.

Greer feinted left and dodged right, grabbing Rush by the front of the shirt and flinging the smaller man back into his original corner as Belle darted to TJ's side. His eyes sought her immediately, and he whimpered, lunging for her before Greer shoved him back. "Enough. Leave Belle alone."

Rush sank back on his haunches, hands yanking at his hair. He'd started making the whining noise again, his eyes never leaving her, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Nick, calm down," Belle pleaded, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"How's your head?" Young asked, coming up behind her, and Belle was grateful for the distraction from her guilt. Her presence might not have been helping, but her absence was clearly upsetting him.

"Just a bump," she assured him, trying not to hear the increasingly-loud whining coming from Rush's corner.

"Here let me see," Young slid his fingers into her hair to lift it away from the affected area, and the whining sound abruptly cut off. That was the only warning they had before an inarticulate howl of rage filled the room, and Rush all but tackled the other man. Belle stumbled back as Rush landed on top of Young, snarling as he struck blindly at the bigger man.

"Jesus Christ!" Young covered his head as Rush rained blows down on him, the strikes interspersed with clawing, and Belle yanked at his shoulders, trying to get him off Young.

"Nick, stop!" she snapped in his ear, but the doctor seemed beyond hearing her.

His growls were interspersed with words, and Belle's heart clenched when she realized what he was saying. "Mine. _Mine_!" She wrapped her arms around his heaving chest, pressing her face against his neck.

"Yours. Okay? I'm yours, now _stop_." That seemed to help, and Nick allowed himself to be pulled off of Young. Belle sat back on her knees, feeling drained, and Rush knelt in front of her, his hands cradling her face as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Mine," he repeated, his eyes huge and liquid, and she wasn't going to think about the implications of this.

Belle kissed his cheek and stole a look at TJ, who'd just finished preparing a sedative. Beside her, Greer holstered his gun and leaned down to help Young up. "Can I take him somewhere?" she asked quietly, "He seems okay when it's just the two of us."

"I'm not sure I'd call that okay," TJ said reluctantly, then sighed, "But go ahead and take him to his quarters. Radio if you need help."

Greer volunteered to go first and clean out the corridors between the infirmary and Rush's quarters, which Belle was grateful for. Clearly being like this made him even more antisocial than usual, and Belle didn't want to guess how he'd react if someone tried to approach him. For his part, Rush seemed willing to follow where she led if she kept her hand in his and kept up a steady stream of chatter for him to focus on.

It was with a tremendous sense of relief that Belle locked them in Rush's quarters, watching him prowl the perimeter. The console room would probably be more familiar and therefore comforting, but if he managed to damage something in the state he was in, he wouldn't thank her for it. He seemed satisfied enough with their current location to allow her to calm down a bit. At least he wasn't making noises anymore, which she considered a good sign.

"Why don't you try to rest?" she suggested once he'd finished exploring. If he could sleep off the effects of the thorns, perhaps everything would be back to normal by the time he woke up, and they could all pretend that this never happened. He tilted his head to look at her, and Belle couldn't help her smile at the familiar gesture. At least the Rush she knew was still in there somewhere. He beamed back.

"Oh, Nick," she said fondly, taking his hands to lead him to the bed, "You're going to be mortified when you snap out of this."

He allowed himself to be pushed down on the bed, but before Belle could step away, he caught her around the waist, bringing her down with him. "Nick!" she scolded, unable to keep from laughing, and he rumbled in her ear, twining himself around her from behind.

"You are a royal pain in the ass," she said, her voice warm with affection. His arms held her tightly, keeping her back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his leg around hers. She patted his arm, and he rubbed his face against the back of her neck. This was odd but nice enough, and he wasn't whining or growling, just rumbling a little, a noise that might have been a purr.

Thinking back on it, Belle couldn't remember ever seeing anyone touch Rush unless they were attempting to hit him, and she frowned, covering his hands with her own. He'd never shown any sign that it bothered him, but that couldn't possibly be healthy. Clearly some part of him was aware of the touch-starvation if he was clinging to her like this.

She'd have to try to remedy that once he was back to normal. She doubted he'd let her hug him, but maybe she could get away with rubbing his shoulders or something like that. "What am I going to do with you?" she whispered, and his tongue rasped over her throat.

Belle tried not to squirm as he kept licking her. This was stranger than the cuddling, but it seemed to give him comfort for some reason, and she was reasonably certain it wasn't a prelude to ripping her throat out so there was no harm in allowing it.

Eventually she got used to the sensation, and her eyes slipped shut, the stresses of the day catching up to her and leaving her feeling exhausted. In her half-doze it took a while to register that the licking had changed into open-mouthed kisses to her neck. "Nick?"

He rumbled at her, his teeth scraping her skin lightly, and Belle shivered. "Nick, you shouldn't..." she trailed off as she felt something hard pressing against her behind, and Nick made a quiet little moaning sound as he slowly rocked his hips against her.

"Nick, stop," she said firmly, her mind racing. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about this both back on Icarus when she couldn't look at him without seeing Gold's face as well as on Destiny when she'd taken a liking to Rush simply for being Rush. He'd never given any sign he thought about her that way though, and to let this continue would be taking advantage of his confusion.

He stopped kissing her neck and started sucking on it instead, unwittingly hitting one of her biggest hotspots, and Belle stifled a moan. Gods, it had been so long since anyone touched her like this. And he still didn't have a clue what he was doing.

"Stop," she said again, trying to pull out of his arms. Nick yanked her back against him, holding her tighter as he growled quietly, and that wasn't his threatening growl. This should _not_ be arousing her.

He nipped at her throat, breathing hard as he rubbed himself against her, and Belle's eyes fluttered closed as she tried to think of what would do the least amount of harm: shove him away and possibly enrage him or let him finish against her?

If she let him bring himself off, he'd probably fall asleep, and she didn't think it counted as taking advantage if she didn't do anything. He was pleasuring himself; she just happened to be there too. Before she could consider any further, his hands started roaming her body, exploring her curves, and this needed to stop _right now._

She grabbed his wrists, surprised by how much strength it took to pull his hands away from her body. He was pressed flush against her back, his erection throbbing against her behind, and she'd never seen this coming when she offered to stay with him. "No touching," she ordered, ducking out of his embrace to sit on the end of the bed. Almost immediately he was on his hands and knees crawling toward her, his face distressed.

"No." She held her hand up to ward him off, and he sat on his haunches, looking like he wanted to cry.

"Mine?" he said pleadingly, his hands kneading at the air in front of him. "Belle."

"Yes, your Belle, but not like this," she tried to explain. "It's wrong."

He was staring at her mouth, and Belle wished she had some idea how much of this he understood. "Mine," he repeated, then she was in his arms again, his mouth on hers as his hand raked through her hair to hold her in place for his kiss. He growled against her mouth, his tongue plundering her, and Belle's brain stuttered. Nick Rush was one hell of a good kisser even like this- thorough and the tiniest bit frantic- and this was so very wrong.

She placed her hands against his chest, trying not to hear his growl as he rocked his hips against her, and shoved him off of her. "Stop," she snapped. It wasn't fair of him to work her up like this when he didn't really want her.

He grabbed for her again, and Belle darted off the bed and out the door, relieved that she knew how to lock it behind her. A second later she heard a thump as Rush collided with it. She sank to the ground, leaning back against the door as she struggled to reclaim her self-possession. Behind her, she could hear scrabbling as Nick tried to get out, then a desperate keening that broke her heart.

He was damaged, probably frightened, and now alone. Belle couldn't let that stand, but she couldn't go back in either, not when he was like this. "Nick?" she called through the door, relieved when the keening stopped. She heard another thump like he'd dropped down on his side to be on level with her. "I'm still here, Nick. I didn't leave you."

The scrabbling noise was back very close to her head like he was trying to claw his way through the door. "You have to calm down, Nick. Can you do that? Please? Just _calm down_."

He smacked his hand against the door, making her jump, and frustration was starting to get the better of Belle. "_Stop_ that! I'll come back in if you calm down. If you don't, I'll go away." In truth, she wasn't sure she'd be able to walk away from him, but Rush certainly didn't need to know that.

This would be so much easier if she was sure he could understand anything she was saying. "Do you want me to come back in?"

There was a long moment of silence, then he said hoarsely, "Belle."

That was probably a yes. "Will you be good?" she prompted, feeling vaguely ridiculous. If this didn't work she was going to end up fetching a water bottle to spritz him with when he misbehaved. Swallowing down a hysterical giggle, she waited for some kind of reply.

After another long silence, she heard, "...yes."

Belle closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. That was the first thing he'd said other than her name and 'mine' since this started, and he had to be getting better. He'd understood her question and responded to it. This was a good sign.

"Okay. Back up." She gave him a moment to comply, then let herself back into the room, locking the door behind her before turning to face him. Nick was standing in the middle of the room, a combination of guilt and hope and relief written on his face that made her want to hug the poor man.

"Come on," she sighed, taking his hand and leading him back to the bed, hoping she wasn't making a mistake. She sat herself down at the head of the bed, and coaxed him to lie down with his head in her lap. Rush sighed as she started to run her fingers through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. "Try to sleep, Nick," she encouraged, and he nodded a little, rubbing the side of his face against her leg.

She kept petting him, relieved when his eyes slipped shut and his face relaxed. Finally his breathing evened out, and Belle tipped her head back to rest against the wall, maintaining her hold on his hair as she followed him into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He stretched luxuriously, feeling more comfortable than he could remember being in an age. This was a _good_ place- warm and safe- and he nuzzled closer to his mate with a happy little rumble as she stroked him tenderly. "You're okay, Nick. Go back to sleep."

Her voice woke him further, and he lifted his head to glance warily around the room, checking for danger. He'd been surrounded earlier in the cold place that had smelled bitter. There'd been others there who prodded and struck and threatened, but then his mate had come, defending him as he did her.

They'd tried to keep him away from her, but they'd failed. _Nothing_ could keep him from his mate, his Belle. The other male had tried to take her away, but he'd protected her. Now they were alone, no one to hurt them, no one to steal her from him.

Her fingers carded through his hair, coaxing him to look at her, and she was all sleep-mussed and drowsy and beautiful. He buried his face against her throat as he pulled her closer, and she was soft and pliant in his arms as he lapped at her, starving for her musky, sweet-salt taste. He could smell himself on her, could smell her arousal with none of the fear that had permeated it before. She was so warm in his arms, her hair so soft against his fingers, and she smelled so _good_.

Unbidden, the thought of the other male returned to him, and he growled against her skin. The male had touched her hair, had touched what was _his_. That couldn't happen again. He wouldn't allow that to happen. No one was permitted to touch his mate except him. He closed his mouth over her skin, humming as he sucked hard, biting down just enough with his teeth. His mark would warn them off, show everyone that she belonged to him.

The scent of her arousal grew stronger, and he straddled her lap, pushing himself against her stomach to let her feel his need. He wanted to be inside, to please her, to make her moan and cling to him because he was the only one who could make her feel like this. She was his, and he was hers, and he _wanted_ her.

"No, Nick," she murmured, her hands tugging on his hair to try to pull him away, and that wasn't right. She wanted it too. He could smell how much. Her body was so inviting, arching just the tiniest bit to welcome him. He nuzzled at his mark, loving how it stood out against her pale skin. Everyone would see it. Everyone would know who she belonged to.

"Nick!" she snapped, yanking on his hair, and he whimpered as she pulled him off of her. It _hurt_ to not touch her. He pawed at her, trying to get closer, and she placed her hands against his chest and shoved. "Stop."

"Why?" He ran his hands over her arms, his rough fingers catching against her soft skin, and she shivered at his touch, gooseflesh rising in his wake.

"You don't want this," she told him, and that was ridiculous. He pressed his hips forward, grinding himself against her belly and showing her how very much he did want this. There was another waft of her arousal through the air, and he grinned fiercely, catching her wrists in his hands so he could put her arms around his neck and press himself against her again, wanting to taste her sweet pink lips more than he wanted his next breath.

They moved against his, and she was talking again. "Doctor Rush, wake up _please_," she begged, sounding desperate, and she didn't need to sound like that. He'd give her anything she wanted, _anything_. "Doctor Rush!"

This was important, some part of him was trying to tell him. This _mattered_. He tried to focus on what she was saying, but it was so hard to think with her so close and smelling like that... "_Doctor Rush_!"

With a low cry, he wrested himself away from her, feeling like he was ripping off a limb. With a shaking hand he covered his face, struggling to breathe. He had to _think_, but it was so fucking hard. "Belle?"

He looked up at his assistant who was watching him warily, her face flushed and breath coming fast. Oh, she was lovely, and he heard himself growl, wanting to see how far down her blushes went. There was no part of her that should be hidden from him; she was _his_.

"Doctor Rush? Is that you?" she asked, sounding hopeful, and he fought through the fog of want and need and _mine_, and tried to _think_.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me," he panted out, and he didn't sound right. He didn't _feel_ right, and why wasn't she touching him? She should be touching him, and he should be touching her, pleasing her with his lips and tongue and hands and cock and he needed to be inside her _right now_...

"Thank the gods," Belle murmured, slumping in relief and reaching out to pat his knee.

The touch was brief and light, and he keened desperately because it wasn't _enough_. She shied back against the wall, and he clawed at the bed, trying to keep control. "Something's wrong with me."

"You're having an allergic reaction to a plant you found," she said quickly, "That's why you can't think straight. You've been... out of it."

If he concentrated, he could remember the events of the past day. Greer and TJ and his Belle and Young... Young who had _touched his Belle._

His brain stuttered to a stop again at the memory, and he snarled, wanting to find the man and rip his throat out for touching what didn't belong to him. He wanted her for himself, of course he did. Young knew that she was _his_, and he wanted to take her away from him. He saw how soft and sweet and pretty she was, and he wanted to steal her, but Nick wouldn't let that happen. _No one_ was going to steal his Belle- his mate.

He grabbed her ankles and gave a quick yank, pulling her flat on the bed. Before she could do more than squeak in surprise, he pounced, using his own weight to keep her in place as he went for her throat again, intent on leaving his mark on her _everywhere_.

"Doctor Rush!" Belle snapped, then her hand collided hard with the side of his head. The pain cleared his mind enough for him to realize what he was doing, and he reeled back, landing hard on his arse on the floor.

Bloody hell, what was he _doing_? "I'm sorry," he panted, "I'm so sorry."

She nodded, her eyes huge. "It's okay," she said at once. "I can go-"

"_No_!" he snarled, planting himself between her and the door. She had to stay here. It was safe here. He could protect her.

"All right!" she said quickly, "I'll stay. Just... could you maybe... stop kissing me?"

Oh, that hurt. That hurt_ a lot_. He curled around himself, feeling like she'd shot him. Then she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and he jerked his head up, inhaling deeply. It was still there, not as strong as before when he'd been on top of her, but it was _still there_: arousal. "You want it too," he said hoarsely.

"What?" she asked, and he got up on his hands and knees, crawling a little closer so he could breathe her in more.

"You want it too," he repeated, "I can smell it on you."

Belle's face flamed, and she was lovely like that, all flushed for him. She bit her lip, and he growled, wanting to do that for her, to sink his own teeth into that soft, pink flesh and make her moan for him. "All right," she said finally, meeting his eyes, "I want it. But _you_ don't. So, you need to stop."

"Don't be bloody stupid," he groused, crawling closer to rub his face against her leg. He tugged on her knee, trying to get her to open her legs for him so he could smell more of that wonderful scent. "Of course I want it."

"Nick," Belle grabbed his chin to force him to look at her, and he nuzzled into her hand. She was touching him. Touching was _good_. "You don't want _me_. This isn't you. This is the plant."

He turned his face into her hand and nipped at her palm, punishing her for her words. She wanted him, and he wanted her, and he wouldn't let her deny them this. "I've always wanted you. _Always_. Since Icarus... Why are we still _talking_?"

There were so many better things they could be doing with their mouths- kissing and biting and sucking and licking- but Belle warded him off when he tried to climb back into her lap. "Do you mean that?" she demanded, leaning close to look him in the eye. He strained his neck to try to get at her mouth and whimpered when she held him away, and this was fucking _torture_. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't think you wanted me, but you do. You do. Fuck, Belle, just let me have you _please_!" Her eyes searched his face, and he felt like his bones were quivering as he tried to hold himself still, crouching at her feet.

"You wanted me before the plant. You wanted to do this?" Her fingers petted his hair, and he whimpered.

"_Yes_, yes. All the time. So much. Belle, please!" His cock was throbbing, and his mate was so close, so very close, and she wanted him, and he should be kissing her. He should be kissing her and touching her and pleasing her, and _why wouldn't she let him_?

Her fingers curled in his hair, then she was tugging him closer, her lips brushing against his and the sheer relief left him shaking. Then she murmured, "Yes, Nick," and he lunged for her, knocking her flat across the bed as he went for her mouth, their teeth crashing together as he licked his way in, trying to taste every bit of her all at once. She was his, and he had to have all of her.

She dug her nails into his shoulders, and he growled, kissing her harder. He wanted her to scratch, to claw, to leave welts so everyone could see how well he'd pleased his mate. He plunged his fingers into her curls, holding her in place as he thrust his tongue deeper, not wanting to miss any of her. This was where she belonged- on her back with him on top of her- and they would be like this always now. No one would take her away from him.

He pawed at her blouse, not quite able to manage the buttons. There was too much fabric, too much separating him from his mate. He needed bare skin, needed more to kiss and lick and try to crawl into. He needed more _Belle_. He snarled in frustration against her lips, then grabbed the front of her blouse and simply tore, growling in satisfaction when the horrible thing came apart in his hands. "Nick!" she scolded, wrenching her mouth away from his, and he stared down in greedy delight as her pale skin flushed for him.

Lowering his head, he sucked and bit at her collarbone, leaving a trail of bruises over her fragile skin, warning off anyone who looked at her. Beneath him, Belle sighed and moaned, welcoming his claim. The air in the room felt hot, sultry, the only noise the sound of his eager panting and her sounds of pleasure until a burst of static intruded.

"Belle? Everything okay? Any change?" He snarled at the interruption, whimpering when Belle pushed him off of her so she could roll off the bed and retrieve the radio. Even when he wasn't with them, Young was trying to keep him from his mate, and- worse- she was _letting_ him.

"Everything is fine, Colonel," Belle said into the radio, shooting him a warning look when he growled. "He's starting to get better."

"Tell him-" He didn't care what the rest of that sentence was. Young was intruding, was stealing Belle's attention, and that wasn't allowed. With a snarl, he lunged off the bed and snatched the radio from her hand, flinging it at the wall and relishing the smash as Young's voice went away.

"You're going to have to fix that, you know," Belle pointed out, and she wasn't taking this nearly seriously enough. Eyes narrowed, he advanced on her, crowding her against the wall.

"Mine," he bit out. He pressed his hands against the wall, trapping her in place with his arms as he rocked his hips against her belly. "Not his. _Mine_."

He bit down hard on her neck, leaving a mark the twin of the one she already wore on the other side. She cried out, arching into him, and the scent of her arousal flooded his senses. His mate _liked_ this. She liked it when he claimed her. He caught her flesh between his teeth and tugged, growling in ecstasy when her hands grabbed his arse and pulled him flush against her.

He shoved himself between her legs, thrusting frantically, and why wasn't he inside her already? Why were they still separated? With a whine of loss, he tore himself away from her, tugging desperately at her bra, her jeans, everything that was keeping him from his mate's skin. His hands were shaking too badly for him to manage the fastenings and he groaned in despair, ducking his head to kiss her breasts through the lacy fabric. It was scratchy against his mouth, and he couldn't taste her properly, and this wasn't _fair_.

Catching the edge in his teeth, he yanked, trying to rip the hateful thing away. Then his mate's hands were there, easing him away, working some magic that left her bare to him and he dropped to his knees with a moan, burying his face between her breasts. She cradled his head in her hands, and she was so warm, so soft and perfect.

This was an even better place to lick than her throat. Long hot strokes and tiny flutters, and his mate was sobbing his name. The tips beaded into hard little buds, and he couldn't stay away from them, lapping again and again to feel the contrast between her tight nipples and her soft flesh. He closed his mouth over one, sucking avidly, drawing it as deep into his mouth as he could.

"Nick..." she sighed, then his mate was straddling his lap, and he was between her legs, hot and throbbing against the place that belonged only to him. She pulled at his hair, guiding his mouth to her other breast, and he obeyed her eagerly as he ran his nails over her back, clawing gently.

She was making the most wonderful noises, and he wanted to bite them from her lips, taste them in his mouth. He let his hands take over for his mouth as he claimed her lips again, greedily licking away every sigh and moan. His mate pushed at him, shoving him away, and he growled, yanking her closer until he realized she was pulling at his clothes. He subsided with a rumble as she pushed off his waistcoat and grabbed at the hem of his shirts, yanking them off over his head.

He surged against her the second the fabric hit the floor and grunted with pleasure as bare skin met bare skin. This was so much _better_- her skin rubbing against his, nothing between them, nothing keeping them apart. Then she wrested her mouth from his, using her grip on his hair to yank his head back and bare his throat. He howled as her teeth bit into his skin, his mate growling and tugging, marking him as he had her. "_Mine_," she hissed in his ear, and he bucked beneath her, barely keeping the presence of mind not to spill himself against her.

"Yes... _yes_..." he gasped as she bore him back to the floor, grinding herself against his throbbing cock. He grabbed her hips to still her, and she batted his hands away with a snarl.

She raked her nails down his chest, leaving long trails of fire, and he arched beneath her, keening desperately. It was too good and too much, and he was hers, and she was _claiming_ him. "Please! Please, please, _please_..." He didn't know where he found the word, but she seemed to like it, smiling down at him with such tenderness before she nipped at his bottom lip.

With a grunt, he flipped her onto her back, his hands tearing at her jeans. More, he had to have more of her. The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air, making his mouth water. That was where she needed his licks and kisses, that was the part of her he needed to taste. Whining, he tore at the fabric, desperate to possess his mate.

He scrabbled at the fastening of her jeans, unable to stop even when her hands joined his, trying to help. She sat up beneath him, leaning closer, and her teeth closed over his windpipe, not biting, just holding on, and everything went hazy and slow and _wonderful_ at her show of dominance.

She pushed him down again, and he yielded instantly, only whining a little when she released him and sat up. "Hush," she scolded, her fingers pinching at his nipple in punishment, and he wriggled happily.

Eagerly, he watched her pull off her shoes and socks and sighed when she straddled his knees, giving him a lovely view of her arse and bare back. She was so smooth and lovely, and there was so much pale skin for him to mark. Her clever fingers got his shoes and socks off as well, and she bent down to run her tongue along his instep, making him jerk helplessly.

"Ticklish, Nick?" she asked with a wicked smile as she moved to kneel beside him on the floor, and he nodded. Her smile widened. "Anywhere else?"

Her fingers danced along his sides despite his best efforts to bat them away, making him snort with laughter as she tormented him. He rolled her under him, trying and failing to pin her down as she kept tickling, finding every spot that made him giggle and squirm. Tangling her legs with his, she reversed their positions, ruthlessly taking advantage of her superior position until he managed to flip her onto her back again.

She wasn't the slightest bit ticklish, but he tried anyway, and they batted at each other like cubs at play as they rolled around on the floor, laughter ringing through the room. Eventually, he managed to pin her down, trapping her wrists in his hands to stop her as he beamed down at her, happier than he'd been in a lifetime.

"Belle." He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, loving the way it crinkled as she smiled at him. "My Belle."

He gazed down at the marks he'd left on her neck and collarbone with no small amount of pride. There could be no doubt now. Anyone who looked at her would know she was his. He released her wrists and ran his fingers tenderly over the bruises, and she sighed at the touch, her eyes dark and sleepy with pleasure. "My Nick."

He closed his eyes with a soundless sigh at the words, nodding helplessly. Yes, her. Always hers. Forever hers. He dropped down on top of her to claim her mouth again, rumbling when her tongue stroked his. This was quieter now, gentler, and he could have spent hours just indulging himself with his mate's mouth, but her hips were rocking against his, her body begging for his touch, and he could deny her nothing.

When he fumbled with the fastening of her jeans, she was quick to help him, and together they bared her body to his gaze. Beneath him, she flushed brilliantly, the blush traveling down her throat and past the marks he'd left on her collarbone, and he set to work licking it away. She was even warmer against his tongue now, her flavor a bit saltier, and he'd never tasted anything half so delicious as his Belle.

He sat back on his haunches just to look, his eyes running hungrily over her. She moved under his gaze like it was a caress, her throat, her belly, all her vulnerable places exposed to him. He would defend her with his life, allow no harm to come to her, and they would never be separated. She was his mate, his world, and he would keep her safe.

Resting his head on her belly, he nuzzled against her, rubbing his face against bare skin. He wanted his scent on her, to smell himself on her, to mark his territory. She giggled at the touch of his beard and he rubbed his chin playfully against the curve of her hip, then ran his tongue over the abraded area. Every inch of her he would mark as his.

He was so close to the place he wanted to be, and he had to have more of her. Kissing his way closer, he tugged at her thigh, moaning in pleasure when she opened for him. She smelled so _good_- dark and musky with just a hint of sweetness- and he was lost. With a growl he buried his nose in her, grabbing her hips to hold her still as he pressed deeper, breathing her in.

Belle yelped and clutched at his head as he rubbed his nose against her, and she was so very wet all for him. His cock twitched at this tangible evidence that he was pleasing his mate, and he swiped his tongue over her, reminding himself not to bite, but it was so difficult when he just wanted to _devour_ her.

She was hot and wet and delicious, and he was _starving_ for her. He licked frantically, and this was so much _better_ than lapping at her neck or her breasts. Beneath him, his mate was writhing and yanking at his hair, and he could feel it all the way down his spine. His hips moved involuntarily as he ground himself against the floor, wanting to be buried in her, but he couldn't tear himself away with his mate crying out for him.

Her legs went over his shoulders as he thrust his tongue into her, searching for more of her sweetness. He had to have more, _had_ to. He found a place that made her scream and concentrated his licks on that spot, worrying it just a little with his teeth- careful, _careful_- then she was screaming his name and digging her heels into his back, and he nearly came with her just from the sound of his name on her lips.

Anyone passing by would hear his mate screaming for him, would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his, and he was pleasing her. More than anything he wanted to please her. He kept licking, letting his hands roam her body before sliding his fingers into her, and she was so tight around him that he could barely move. He growled into her, and she clenched tighter, keeping him close. It was too much; he _had_ to bite, and he turned his head, sinking his teeth into her inner thigh as she screamed and came apart for him again.

He curled his fingers, rubbing against her as he ran his tongue over the bite mark in apology, but his mate keened desperately and pulled at his hair until his mouth was on her again. Desperation made him clumsy as he licked and licked, wanting her to scream for him again.

Scream she did, and he echoed her, feeling her pleasure like it was his own. No one else could please her like this. No one else would worship her body like he did. She was _his_ to please and protect, and he was eager to do both.

When she tugged on his hair, trying to pull him off of her, he whined and clutched at her hips, burying his face against her. Not yet. Not when there was still so much to taste and feel. "Oh _gods_, Nick, I can't-" But she could, she could, he showed her that she could with his tongue and teeth and fingers, making her cry his name until her voice was hoarse and her body was all but convulsing.

"Nick, _stop_!" she finally begged, and he reluctantly released her, licking his lips as he crawled to her side. Her chest was heaving, her body flushed and eyes dark, and she'd never looked more beautiful. He lifted his hand to his mouth, cleaning her off his fingers, and her eyes fluttered as she moaned. Then she grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to her mouth, sucking her own juices off his skin, and he growled, clawing at the floor in an effort not to pounce on her again.

"Now you," she purred, rubbing the heel of her hand over him through his jeans, and he cried out, hips jerking frantically. She undid his fly and he cooperated as much as he could as she got his jeans and boxers off of him. Even that light touch was enough to undo him, and he crouched over her, breathing hard. His hair was hanging in his face, and he was shaking too much to even push it back, but his mate did it for him, stroking the side of his face lovingly.

"What do you want, love?" she murmured, and he turned his face to nip at her hand, struggling to breathe. Taking advantage of his distraction, she ran the fingers of her free hand over him, and he howled, grabbing her wrists and pinning them down on either side of her head. His cock was throbbing against her belly, and he whimpered, helplessly rocking his hips against her. She was so warm, so beautiful, and he was so tempted to spill himself over her, to cover her with his scent and seed and claim her that way, but that could never be enough for him. He wanted to claim his mate, but he wanted her to claim him too.

"My Belle," he murmured, moving down her body so he was pressed against soft curls that tickled his heated flesh. "Please?"

With a tender smile, she shifted beneath him, and he settled between her legs, rubbing himself against her just a little. "Mine." He cupped her behind, filling his hands with her softness and squeezing, and she giggled a little before reaching down to wrap her cool little fingers around him. He whimpered.

"Mine," she whispered back, then she was guiding him into her, inviting him in, and he was as close to his mate as any two people could possibly be. They fit so perfectly, her body enveloping his, holding and squeezing and welcoming him, and he wanted to be in her for an eternity, never wanted to be anywhere else. He wanted to just hold himself there, to stay in that moment of being buried in his mate, but need was already overwhelming him, and he couldn't stay still.

He pulled out slowly, resenting every bit of distance between them, then he ground his teeth and plunged back in, needing to be close again. She tossed her head with a moan, and he nipped at her throat as he did it again and again, trying not to hurt her. _Nothing_ was permitted to hurt his mate, especially not him.

"Nick..." She clawed at his shoulders exactly the way he'd wanted her to before, and he whined and trembled, struggling to keep control. "Harder," she begged, and he was lost.

He pulled almost all of the way out, then snapped his hips forward, making her jerk and keen. Hard thrusts followed- deep and relentless- making her thrash in his arms. He dug his teeth into the juncture between her neck and shoulder to hold her in place, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her feet digging into his back to urge him on. He was buried in her to the hilt, giving her everything he had, and she was taking it all and begging for more. He was claiming her, and she was screaming, and he was so close he could feel it crackling down his spine.

Her nails cut into his back, and the bright spark of pain spurred him on. He pounded into her, snarling, and she lifted her hips to meet every harsh thrust, taking him deep. She was laid bare beneath him, completely vulnerable, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her safe and make her happy.

She drew her knees back more, and he ground against her with every thrust, straining to push himself deeper. He wanted to be closer, as close as he could get so they never had to be apart again and no one could ever take her away from him. Then his mate was crying out and clinging to him, her body pulling him in, and he exploded within her with an unearthly howl.

She clenched around him, holding him tight as she cried out, and he rocked against her frantically, drawing it out, the pleasure so intense he could barely breathe. Nothing else in the world existed, just himself and his mate, and she was part of him now, his forever.

He collapsed onto her, spent and exhausted and blissfully content. She stroked his hair as he lapped at the bite marks decorating her neck, feeling smug at the thought of her wearing them in front of the others. Let them try to take her away from him. Nothing would ever do that.

Beneath him, she shifted uncomfortably, and he frowned, rolling them over so that she was sprawled on top of him. She sighed as he nuzzled at her hair, running his hand over her back in long strokes to soothe her trembling muscles. She curled into him, and he wrapped himself around her, relishing this chance to dote upon his mate.

Soon enough, he felt himself soften enough to slip out of her, and he grumbled at the loss of connection. Vaguely he was aware that they were curled up on the floor when there was a perfectly comfortable bed not five feet away, but it didn't seem important enough to do anything about. Eventually they would have to move, have to leave this room even, but they didn't have to do it now. For now they could just _be_, and nothing could be better than that.

She was covered in his scent, his marks, completely his, and he rumbled happily, pushing her hair back so he could see her face. She was smiling, the drowsy, sated smile of a woman who'd been well-loved. Reaching up, she traced her fingers over his lips, and he kissed them in passing. "No regrets?" she asked,

"My Belle," he told her seriously, "Always."

She beamed, leaning up to brush a kiss against his mouth before she snuggled back into his embrace. "My Nick. Always."

Later he would lick every inch of her body clean, claim her again, find the words to make her understand how much he loved her. For now though, she was in his arms, warm and safe and happy and _his_, and that was enough for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Belle stirred, not quite awake when Nick nudged her off of him onto the floor. The cold touch of metal snapped her eyes open, and before she had a chance to protest, she found herself being lifted, Nick carrying her to the bed and tucking her under the coverlet before crawling in after her, wrapping himself around her from behind. He nipped at her throat, running his hands briskly over the gooseflesh on her arms, and she realized he'd been worried she was cold.

She was going to miss this Rush when the plant toxins finally wore off, she guiltily admitted to herself. Normal Rush was brilliant and interesting and charming in his own gruff way, but she'd miss her sweet, cuddly, playful lover. Even if he still wanted to do this after the reaction went away- and he had expressed interest in doing so, which was the only reason she'd given in- she couldn't imagine he'd be willing to take the time to spend hours making love to her.

A warm tongue rasped over her throat, and she giggled, arching back into him as he rumbled happily at her. Maybe the oral fixation would survive. Belle certainly hoped so; the mere thought of how many times he'd brought her off with his face buried between her legs made her whole body blush.

Nick nibbled on the shell of her ear before tracing his tongue over it, his hands splayed against her belly to hold her tightly against him. "Mine," he whispered, the rush of his breath making her shiver as much as the word did. He placed a trembling kiss just below her ear, and she reached back to bury her fingers in his hair, smiling as he rumbled a little louder at the caress.

"You're so precious," she murmured, and he nestled closer to her. She could feel him hardening against her, and she scolded lightly, "And insatiable." In truth Belle didn't mind at all. It had been so long since anyone had touched her that to be desired so was nothing but a delight. She'd almost forgotten how much comfort the touch of skin on skin could bring.

She turned to look at Nick over her shoulder, and his mouth caught hers in an eager kiss, his hand straying to cup her breast. Although lovely, the position was putting a strain on her neck, and she was about to roll onto her back when Nick pushed her onto her stomach, blanketing her with his own body. She brought her hands up to the pillow, and he covered them with his own, lacing their fingers together as he placed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

His hard length pressed against her rear as he painted her face with tiny kisses, his breath coming raggedly as he murmured to her. "Mine... mine... Belle... mate... _mine_..."

The thought of being property had never sat well with Belle. Gaston's tendency to treat her as such had been one of the things she liked least about him, yet when Rumpelstiltskin had called her 'my wife' with such possessive pride, she'd loved it. Nick's words gave her the same shivery feeling of pleasure. Perhaps the difference was that Rumpelstiltskin had always considered himself hers as well, and Rush seemed to feel the same way. "My Nick," she whispered, testing the theory.

He groaned at the words, rubbing himself against her as he started to nip at her throat. Her skin, already sensitive from the love bites he'd left on her, tingled with something that wasn't quite pain, but if he bit any harder would become so. "No more biting, Nick," she said firmly, "Not on the neck. I'm sore."

Above her he froze and made a soft noise of distress. She sighed as he started to lick her throat again, bathing the bite marks with his tongue and lips, tenderly kissing them better. "That's better," she murmured, "Nice and gentle. That feels good."

He kissed his way up to her ear, sucking at the lobe for a moment before he murmured. "I'm sorry. Won't hurt you. _Never_ hurt you."

Nick sounded so unhappy that she had to turn over so she could look at him properly, stroking his hair back from his distressed eyes as he gazed down at her, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. She tugged him down to kiss him there, soothing the bite mark with her tongue. "I know, sweetheart," she crooned, and she didn't know where the endearment was coming from, but he seemed to like it, "It's okay. I liked it. It's just a little too much right now."

Nodding tightly, he sat back, crouching over her as he swept his worried gaze over her body. Gentle fingers traced the bruises on her neck and collarbone then brushed over the fingermarks he'd left on her upper arms when he'd grabbed her earlier. Belle had almost forgotten about them. As she watched, he carefully splayed his fingers over the marks as if testing to see if he'd made them. When he saw that they matched, he whimpered and swallowed hard, glancing from the bruises to her face guiltily.

There were tears in his eyes, and Belle gasped, sitting up quickly and wrapping her arms around his trembling body. "It's okay, Nick. It's okay. You didn't do it on purpose. You were trying to protect me. It was an accident."

He ran his hand up her back and into her hair, his fingers finding the bump he'd given her at the same time. It was still tender but hardly painful, and Belle hadn't even noticed it during their earlier activities. It was Nick who hissed at the touch, jerking his hand away quickly and pulling her against him, cradling her in his arms and rocking her a little. "Sorry," he muttered into her hair, his voice thick with unshed tears, "Sorry, sorry, _sorry_."

"I know you are, sweetheart. It's okay; really it is. I forgive you." She rubbed the back of his neck as he snuffled into her hair and pressed a tender kiss to his jaw, trying to distract him. Was this the plant or was this Rush? she wondered. For all his intensity, she'd never considered him particularly emotional, and for the first time she wondered if he was just hiding those parts of himself so well that no one suspected that they were there.

If it _was_ Rush, then maybe it was a blessing that this had happened. It couldn't possibly be healthy to bottle things up so tightly. Belle wondered if that was where some of his anger was coming from. Perhaps he'd continue to trust her enough to feel comfortable venting to her once this was all over. That assumed that he wasn't so mortified he avoided her completely after he finally snapped out of it.

Nick certainly wasn't bottling anything up at the moment, and Belle allowed him to position her where he wanted her, curling up on the side of the bed furthest from the door with him wrapped around her protectively, placing himself firmly between her and any possible danger. He tucked the covers around them in a cozy nest and splayed his hands against her back to keep her tightly against him, murmuring against her lips. "Mine. Keep you safe."

Belle did feel safe, safer than she'd ever felt before on Destiny. Nick would let no harm come to her, and she hadn't felt so cherished since Storybrooke. "I know you will, sweetheart," she whispered, "Thank you."

She brushed her lips against his, a little surprised when he didn't immediately try to seize control of the kiss. Instead, he seemed content to let her do as she would. He rumbled as she sucked on his bottom lip, the prickle of his beard strangely erotic as she deepened the kiss, coaxing his tongue into playing with hers. Taking advantage of his sudden docility, Belle eased him onto his back, tangling her fingers in his hair as she straddled his stomach. His hands swept over her restlessly, using just his fingertips to touch, and she wondered if he was afraid of hurting her again.

That couldn't be allowed to stand. With a wicked smile, Belle ignored his whimper of protest as she pulled out of the kiss and started to nuzzle along his jaw, tiny licks interspersed with drags of her teeth until she reached his ear, nipping at the lobe. "Mine."

He growled, his pupils so dilated that his eyes looked nearly black. Belle could feel his hard length pressing against her from behind, and she scooted back a little to rock down against him. With a grunt, Nick grabbed her hips in a bruising grip that he released almost instantly, stroking his fingers apologetically over her, and she'd just have to try harder to break him.

Earlier she'd left a bite mark on his neck, and now Belle set to work giving it a twin, drawing his flesh into her mouth and sucking hard before biting down. Nick's strangled cry echoed through the room as she wriggled against him, letting him feel how ready she was for him. With a groan, he arched beneath her, his erection throbbing at the cleft of her thighs, and she rubbed herself against him, maneuvering until he was nudging against her clit with every movement.

She kept grinding against him as she sat up, admiring her handiwork. Suddenly she understood Nick's preoccupation with biting her. Anyone who saw those marks on his neck would know exactly what they'd been doing, would know that Nick belonged in her bed, belonged to _her_. The flash of triumph she felt at the thought of Mandy seeing them shamed her. Part of her had been jealous of the other woman, still was even though she didn't need to be, and she dropped her head for another bite, Nick tilting his head back to give her better access.

"You're _mine_," she hissed as she released him, and he nodded frantically, his eyes huge. He bucked his hips, keening when she shifted just enough to keep him from slipping inside, torturing both of them. He'd driven her wild earlier, and it was time to return the favor. "All mine. No one else."

"Yes," he gasped as she pressed her thumb against his nipple, dragging it in a slow circle as the small bud hardened at her touch. His hands were flexing on her hips, wanting to grab but not quite daring to. "Yours."

She pinched his nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezed hard as she pressed down with her hips. Nick howled, jerking up to meet her, and Belle eased off, relaxing her grip on his nipple until he again lay supine. "_Please_!" Smiling to herself, Belle did it again, cheating by rocking her hips until the blunt head of his cock was pressing against exactly the right spot.

Things were getting so slippery that it was hard to keep him there, and Nick wasn't helping, moving beneath her so frantically that it was all she could do to keep from being thrown off. His hair was a tangled mess, his eyes nearly feral, and he'd never looked more beast-like or more attractive. "You want me, Nick?" she challenged breathlessly, thinking back to the word he'd used before, "You want your mate?"

"_Mine_!" he snarled, his hands tightening almost painfully on her hips, and that was what she'd wanted.

"Soon," she cooed, scooting lower until his erection was twitching against her belly. Belle turned her attention to the nipple she'd been toying with earlier, flicking her tongue against the heated flesh. Nick's hands tangled themselves in her hair, pulling as she bit down gently. When she turned her attention to the other one, he growled so loudly she could feel his body quivering, then he was yanking her up to his mouth, his tongue plunging deep as he rolled her onto her back.

He plundered her as his hands roamed her body possessively, and whatever he'd lost in finesse, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. His hands were everywhere, his tongue thrusting deeply into her mouth until Belle could feel her head going fuzzy from lack of oxygen, unable to get enough air through her nose. He tore himself away with a snarl, his mouth going to her throat, and he'd just started to close his teeth over her skin when he froze, whimpering.

"Nick?" she gasped, struggling to catch her breath, not understanding why he'd stopped.

He whined in response, then carefully detached his teeth from her neck, licking over the spot he'd started to bite. "No biting," he said raggedly, and Belle could feel him trembling with the effort of not marking her.

An idea struck her and she cradled his face in her hands, forcing her to look at him. "No biting my _neck_," she reiterated with a smile, "There are lots of other places to bite."

Nick lit up at that, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose before sitting back and looking at her avidly. Belle had never seen him look so happy, and it would have been hilarious if it wasn't so adorable.

He started with her collarbone, nipping at each bruise he'd left on her before working his way down, pausing to nuzzle at her breasts and rub his bearded chin against her. The sensation was a strange, not quite ticklish feeling that made her giggle and squirm, and he beamed at her and did it again. More than anything, he reminded Belle of an oversized cat, and she bit her lip to smother her laugh as she imagined scratching behind his ears.

Nick's teeth immediately nipped at the place she'd bitten, and the urge to laugh fled as he sucked at her lower lip, running his tongue over the abused flesh. With a sigh, she twined her fingers through his hair, petting him as he went back to what he'd been doing, slowly kissing his way down her body.

The bites he left on her stomach were careful things, just hard enough to mark without causing pain. She stroked him as he placed a ring of gentle bites around her navel, blushing as he lifted his head to sniff at her. He'd said something earlier about being able to smell her arousal, but she hadn't realized how literally he'd meant it.

Belle's first instinct was to press her thighs together, but then she took in the look on his face. Nick had started to growl softly, and no one had ever looked at her with such sheer, unadulterated hunger before. Nick looked ravenous, and it was _her_ he was starving for.

"Yes," she breathed, and then his mouth was on her- licking, lapping, nibbling just a bit- and she was already close, so close. He thrust his tongue into her, and she cried out, Nick echoing her as her body convulsed, and he sounded like he was enjoying it as much as she was. He didn't even pause to let her come down from her high, just kept licking, forcing the pleasure to keep building. His hands held her hips in place for his mouth as he buried his tongue in her, bringing her to the edge and over again and again.

Her body felt like it had been electrified as she writhed on the bed, unable to do anything except go with it as he lapped at her mercilessly. She was screaming- she _knew_ she was screaming- but she couldn't hear herself, deaf to anything but Nick's frantic growling. He dragged her to the edge of the bed until she was lying across it, her feet on the floor as he moved to kneel between her thighs, giving himself better access as he licked and licked and _licked_.

Just when Belle thought her body could take no more, he tore himself away and slammed into her, his rough cry drowning out her own gasp of pleasure. His mouth glistened with her juices, his hair in wild disarray around his face, and the sight alone was enough to take her breath away. His thrusts were deep and rough and _wonderful_, and Nick snarled with each one, his expression feral.

After only a few minutes, he pulled out of her again, rolling her over until she was kneeling on the floor and bent over the bed. His mouth found her shoulder and he bit down hard as he thrust in again, leaving a trail of bite marks across her shoulders and down her spine as he pounded into her.

"Nick- Nick- _Nick_!" she screamed his name, forgetting any other words she had ever known as she clawed at the bed, her entire body shaking with the force of his thrusts. He sunk his teeth into her earlobe, and she shrieked, then cried out in panic when another voice suddenly intruded.

"What are you doing to- oh _fuck_!" Belle jerked her head around to see the door sliding shut behind Young, and it was hard to say which of them was more appalled. The colonel was staring fixedly at the ceiling, the corner of his mouth twitching, "Is he hurting-"

That was all he had time to say before Nick was on his feet and charging the bigger man, snarling in rage as he knocked him into the wall, his hands going around Young's neck and squeezing. "It's consensual! Nick, stop it!" Belle shouted as Rush used his grip on Young's neck to start slamming his head against the wall.

Young was bigger and stronger but hampered by the fact that he was trying to get Rush off of him without actually touching him. "Weren't answering the radio- heard screaming- get off me!" For his part, Nick seemed oblivious to the fact that he was naked and still aroused as he methodically slammed Young's head into the wall.

"_MINE_!" he all but roared in Young's face, tightening his grip brutally, "She's _mine_!"

Sparing a thought for her own modesty, Belle wrapped the coverlet around her, tripping across the room and nearly falling into the pair of them. "Nick, stop! You have to _stop_!" She yanked on his shoulders, trying to get him to release Young, but Rush was having none of it, and the other man's face was turning a disquieting shade of red as he pried at Rush's fingers. "Nick, you're going to kill him!"

Nick didn't seem to hear her. In desperation, Belle grabbed his hair, yanked his head back, and sunk her teeth into his neck. "Stop!" she snarled without letting go, the sound somewhat garbled, but it finally broke through Nick's blind rage and he released Young, the bigger man collapsing to the floor and rubbing at his neck as he sucked in ragged breaths.

"_Mine_," he threatened once more, but he was showing no sign of attacking again. Belle let him go, and Nick rounded on her immediately, his eyes almost black. Swallowing hard, Belle stepped back as he stepped forward, trying not to trip over the coverlet as she backed away.

"Right. Belle's yours. Got it," Young sounded hoarse and like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Calm _down_, Rush. Leave her alone."

Belle kept retreating until her back hit the wall, and Nick kept advancing, not even blinking at the sound of Young's voice. "He... he won't hurt me," she assured the colonel, not quite believing it herself. She'd thought herself safe from his anger, but she'd just threatened him and in doing so, she'd painted a target on herself.

She held his gaze as he closed the final distance between them, not letting him see her fear. That was what you were supposed to do, wasn't it? Or was she offering a challenge? Before she could rethink, Nick was suddenly plastered against her, his hands tugging at the coverlet as his mouth found hers, kissing her urgently.

Relief left her dizzy, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he ravaged her mouth. Nick sent the coverlet falling the floor, and she blushed when she heard Young's uncertain voice, "Um? You okay then?" She'd all but forgotten he was there.

Her mouth was otherwise occupied, so she flashed him a thumbs-up sign over Nick's shoulder. Nick grabbed her leg, coaxing her to wrap it around his hip as he pushed against her, using his other hand to line them up, and the sound of the door opening and closing again as Young left was sweeter than music. Later she would be mortified, but for now Nick was pushing into her, his mouth leaving hers to lavish kisses on her throat. "Mine... beautiful mate... perfect... all mine..."

His first hard thrust rocked her up onto her toes, and she had to cling to his shoulders for balance. Nick growled when her nails bit into his skin, and his second thrust was harder, knocking her completely off balance.

Belle yelped as she fell. Nick caught her as best he could, but the momentum sent both of them to the floor, sprawled on the abandoned coverlet. "Yeah, I'm perfect all right," she muttered, her face heating.

He chuckled at her words as he sat up and pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him. "Perfect," he said firmly, rubbing his nose affectionately against hers, and Belle smiled, the embarrassment draining away. He nudged his hips gently against her, reminding her that they had yet to finish what they started, and Belle reached down to guide him into her, sighing as he slid deep into her body.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his hair as she settled herself more comfortably on top of him. This was nice after everything they'd done. It was nice to just be here like this, their bodies joined, sharing the same breath. Nick rumbled at her, his eyes warm and happy as he covered her face in tender little baby kisses, tasting every inch of her skin.

Once he'd done that, he drew his knees up, giving Belle something to lean back against as he rocked his hips just a little, seemingly more interested in looking at her. "My mate," he said seriously, placing his hand on her chest over her heart. "Love you."

She covered his hand with her own, smiling at the words. He couldn't possibly mean them, but it was still nice to hear. "Love you too, Nick," she murmured, realizing she was telling the truth. After seeing him so vulnerable, she couldn't help but have a corner of her heart set aside just for this complex man. No matter what happened when he snapped out of it, she would cherish these memories.

He beamed when she said it back, his eyes glistening as he tangled his hand in her hair to pull her into a kiss, worshipping her with his mouth. She stroked his jaw, liking the feel of his beard against her palm as he started to rock against her, his arm going around her waist to help her move with him. Neither of them could do much in this position, but it didn't seem to matter; they could still touch and kiss and caress.

Nick traced every mark he'd left on her skin with gentle fingers, his face alight with so much naked affection that it brought tears to Belle's eyes. She pressed herself down harder, wanting to take him as deeply as she could, to be as close as she could be, and she felt his rumble more than heard it when he thrust up, using his hold on her to pull her down harder.

Suddenly this wasn't enough, and Nick maneuvered her until she was lying on her back, Belle's body protesting when he had to pull out of her long enough to accomplish it. He knelt above her and lifted her legs to his shoulders, grunting as he pushed into her again. Belle arched into every deep, slow thrust, her body quivering each time. Nick never took his eyes off of her, caressing her with his gaze as much as his hands as he ground against her, feeling like he was touching her very soul.

They weren't having sex anymore; they were making love, and the realization was disquieting. Sex was one thing, but she hadn't been prepared for this. Their breath had fallen into rhythm, their bodies working together to join as deeply as possible. Nick's eyes found hers, looking into her with an intensity he usually reserved for Destiny's greatest mysteries, and Belle felt herself laid bare. She hadn't felt this vulnerable and exposed even when Young walked in on them, and through it all Nick kept looking at her, holding her with his gaze.

Her climax was different this time: a slow blossoming of pleasure instead of an explosion. She gasped and arched, Nick watching her every movement with hungry eyes, his attention riveted to her as she rode the sensations, feeling like she was floating. She closed her eyes and felt a rough hand cup her cheek. "All mine. _Belle_."

There was a pleading note to his voice, and she opened her eyes again, hearing his soft sigh of relief when she did so. She held his gaze as he picked up his pace just a little bit, moving harder within her. "My Belle?"

He looked worried, and she wasn't sure what to say. "Nick..."

"_Mine_," he pleaded, and she gasped as he pulled out of her, ducking his head to taste her again. Belle groaned as his tongue rasped over her, Nick seeking out every spot he'd discovered she liked. He thrust his fingers into her, playing her body like an instrument, and soon enough she was crying out to him once more. Still, he wasn't satisfied, continuing to kiss and lick, and Belle wasn't sure how much more she could take.

"Enough," she begged, and he reluctantly lifted his head, licking his lips as he crawled up her body to nuzzle her throat. His hard length pressed against her hip, and she reached down to take hold of him.

He whimpered at the touch, his lips pressed to her ear as he asked again, "Mine?" his anxiety palpable.

"Yours," she assured him, but he didn't look appeased. His eyes were dark as she tightened her grip on him, and she hoped she could offer comfort with her touch since her words weren't reaching him. Sitting up, she leaned over him to take him in her mouth, tasting herself as well as him, a combination that sent a shiver through her.

Nick whined as she licked at him, teasing him just a little before taking as much of him as she could into her mouth. Her hand squeezed the base of him, and she could feel him twitching against her tongue as she lapped and sucked, trying to offer him the same pleasure he'd given her so many times.

With her free hand, she cradled his balls, feeling them draw up at her touch. He was close, he had to be, and she let her teeth scrape over him lightly, hoping to push him over the edge.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, yanking her off of him and shoving her to the floor as he crouched above her, breathing hard. Belle parted her legs, expecting him to take her again, but instead Nick took himself in hand. Reaching down, she put her hand over his, wanting to help bring him off, and Nick snarled at the touch. He let go long enough to reverse their positions so it was her hand touching him, his grip tightening over her fingers to an almost painful degree, forcing her to stroke him roughly.

He felt like iron in her grasp, his flesh nearly searing her fingers as she worked him, her own juices easing the way. "Come for me, Nick," she coaxed, worrying that she was hurting him. "Come for your Belle." The skin around his eyes was tight as though he were in pain, and he cried out like she was killing him before sticky warmth bathed her stomach, and he groaned in relief as much as pleasure.

She kept stroking him, loosening her grip as his hand fell away, his hair hanging in his face as he struggled for breath. "My Belle," he panted out, tracing his fingers through the thick fluid pooling on her stomach, "Mine."

He looked down at her fiercely like he was daring her to argue with him. "Yours," she agreed, and he nodded, returning his attention to her stomach. There was a determined set to his jaw as he massaged his seed into her skin, and Belle gasped at the sheer eroticism of his action.

"Mine," he announced when he'd finished, dropping his head to place a kiss to the spot when her stomach growled, reminding her that they'd both missed at least two meals since all this started. Knowing Nick, he'd missed more than that.

"Yours." She sat up to kiss him, realizing that if they were going to eat, she needed to leave _now_. Otherwise they'd just wind up starting all over again. "And hungry. Why don't I go get us something to eat?"

From the look on his face Nick didn't like that idea at all, but there was no getting around it. They were both hungry, and based on how he'd reacted to Young, Nick wasn't ready to be in public yet. "Come on." She coaxed him off the floor and onto the bed, leaving him there as she pulled on her jeans, not bothering with her panties. "I'll be back soon. You wait here, okay?"

Her blouse was a total loss, and she'd have to do some sewing before it was fit to wear again. In the meantime, she found Nick's brown shirt and pulled that on instead, doing a little twirl to show off how it looked.

Nick growled appreciatively, and she was barely able to evade his grasping hands. "You can rip it off me when I get back. Food first."

He grumbled but subsided, and Belle rewarded him with a quick kiss. Slipping on her shoes, she padded to the door, pausing just inside it to admonish him, "You stay here."

She blew him a kiss when he nodded and let herself out of the room, making it halfway to the mess hall when she realized what a state she was in. She was wearing Nick's clothes, covered in bite marks, and she reeked of sex. No doubt everyone on the ship knew what they were up to by now, but Belle's innate modesty rebelled at the thought of advertising it. She couldn't do much about the bite marks or the clothes, but the least she could do was take a shower before facing the rest of the crew.

Veering from her course, she made her way to the closest set of shower compartments, hoping Nick wouldn't mind the delay. She'd try to be quick about it.

It wasn't until she was ensconced in the mist, the heat doing much to soothe her overtaxed muscles, that she realized she'd forgotten to lock the door behind her


	4. Chapter 4

Belle had told him to stay here. He'd promised to stay here.

He twisted his fingers in the coverlet, trying to banish the fear that she wasn't coming back. She'd said she'd be back. His mate wouldn't lie to him. Young wouldn't be able to lay a hand on her; he knew who she belonged to now. He shuddered, reliving the moment when his mate had claimed him in front of his rival, her teeth digging into his skin, showing Young exactly where her loyalties lay. Young was no longer a threat.

Young wasn't the only other male around though. There were others who might see his beautiful mate and want her for themselves. Growling at the thought, he clawed at the coverlet. His Belle wouldn't let them steal her. She wouldn't. She _wouldn't_.

His mate loved him. She'd said so. She'd said she loved him and let him claim her again and again. Even now she was covered in his marks and his scent, wearing his clothes, showing everyone who she belonged to. She wouldn't let anyone take her away from him.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her eyes the last time he'd claimed her. He'd been taking his time with her, indulging in her, just savoring the feel of his mate's body around him and trying to make it last. He couldn't look away from her beautiful eyes, feeling closer to her than he'd ever been to anyone. Then everything had changed. Her eyes had gone sad and distant, his mate not feeling the same connection that he was. She'd closed her eyes, cutting herself off from him, and he'd never felt colder or more alone even buried to the hilt within her.

He'd been desperate to please her, to remind her that he could make her happy, to get her _back_, but she hadn't wanted that either. Spilling his seed on her had helped, and she'd said she was his, but then she'd _left_. She could be anywhere by now. Anything could be happening to her, and he wasn't there to protect her.

He _needed_ his mate.

With a whimper, he lunged for the door, meaning to claw at it until he finally dug his way through. He _would_ find his mate. Instead, it opened at a touch.

Pleased, he slipped through the opening, the corridor's chill uncomfortable against his bare skin. Something nagged at the back of his mind. His mate had put clothing on before she'd left their den, and he probably should too. Yet if he went back inside, the door might not open again. Last time it hadn't no matter how much he'd pawed at it. If he went back inside, he might be cut off from his mate again, and that couldn't be allowed.

Instead, he lifted his head, trying to scent her on the air. His mate had been here recently, and he followed her trail, her scent mingled with his own. Growling at the thought he picked up speed, loping after her until he bowled into another male, the impact sending both of them sprawling. "Rush?" the male asked, rubbing the back of his head, then his eyes went wide. "Oh fuck," he muttered, covering his face with his hands, "Eli wasn't kidding."

He sniffed at the younger male, snarling when he caught the faintest whiff of his mate's scent clinging to him. "_Where is she_?"

"I don't know!" the male blurted, and he lunged forward to wrap his hands around his throat. He would not be kept from his mate. The male clawed at his hands, gasping, "I was in the console room! I haven't seen her!"

It was the scent of desperation that convinced him, and he released his grip on the male's throat with a growl of warning. He scrambled back. "God, would you put some clothes on or something? This is really fucking weird."

Losing interest in the conversation, he got to his feet, lifting his head and inhaling, determined to track his mate. "Seriously, Rush, you can't walk around naked," the male blathered, and he ignored him even when the man started following him down the corridor.

"Why don't you go back to your quarters and wait for her?" the man suggested, his words coming too fast. "I'll call her and tell her you're looking for her."

A snarl sent the man shying back, and he huffed with satisfaction. He wanted no one else approaching his mate. Belle belonged to him.

"When you snap out of this, I want you to remember that I tried to help!" the man called after him as he left him behind.

He continued to track her, coming across people more frequently as he followed her scent. They gave him odd looks, and he preened a little, knowing that the places his mate had bitten and clawed him were on display. Anyone who looked at him would know exactly how well he'd pleased her. He sniffed each person suspiciously, making certain that none of them had accosted his mate. They chattered at him and spoke into their little boxes, but he didn't smell his mate on any of them, so they weren't important. All that mattered was finding her.

He could smell something that part of him identified as food even though most of him rejected the scent, and he followed it, remembering that his mate had indicated she was planning to find something for them to eat. This place was large and echoey, but it went silent at his arrival, which was quite convenient. Tilting his head back, he let out a low howl, listening intently for her response.

"Uh... Rush?" The dark haired female who approached him was not his mate, and he growled at her when she got too close, straining his ears for any sign of Belle. The female halted but didn't back off, gesturing to one of the doors. "Try the showers. I saw Belle in the hall, and that's where it looked like she was going."

For a moment he was tempted to lick her in thanks, but the need to find his mate was too strong to resist. He loped off in the direction the female had indicated, nostrils flaring as he picked up Belle's scent. It grew stronger with every step, and the others dodged as he increased his pace, following her trail to a door that opened at a touch.

"Occupied!" her voice sang out upon his entrance, and he rumbled with delight, lunging around the partition that separated him from her. Nothing should separate him from his mate.

Warm mist engulfed him, and he paused, his breath catching at the sight of her as she turned on her heel to face him. "Nick!" she gasped, and she looked gorgeous all wet and glistening and covered in his marks as she smiled just for him. "You scared me."

He was about to take her in his arms in apology for frightening her, when he suddenly registered what she was doing. His mate had a bar of soap in her hands, and she was carefully washing away the marker he'd rubbed into her skin. His mate was washing away his claim, and he sank to his haunches, whimpering in dismay.

"NIck?" She put the soap down, crouching down in front of him. "What's wrong?"

She'd washed away his marker; she'd closed herself off from him as he made love to her, and she'd left him alone. He could no longer deny it. His mate was not satisfied with him, and he didn't know what he was doing wrong.

Tugging at his hair, he looked at her pleadingly, begging her to tell him how he was failing her. "Mine?"

"Yes, yours," she agreed, reaching out to cup his cheek, "For as long as you want me."

Her eyes were gentle and a little sad, and it made him want to whimper and claw. There was something not right between them, and some part of his mind was screaming, demanding his attention. Desperation drowned out the little voice, and he yanked his mate into his arms, wishing that he could fix everything just by holding her tightly enough. "Love you," he rasped, scrambling for words, "My mate. Always. _Mine_."

"I love you too, Nick," she murmured, and he seized her mouth, licking the words from her lips and swallowing them down, trying to take them into himself so they would always be safe and true. Without his mate, he had nothing, and there were so many ways he could lose her, so many rivals who wanted to steal her away.

He would prove his worth, prove that he deserved the honor of being her mate. Carefully, he eased her just far enough away that he could nuzzle at her throat, licking along the marks he'd left there. They would fade in time, leaving no trace of him, and he wanted something permanent, something so blatant that everyone who looked upon her knew immediately that she was his and his alone.

It was hard to think with his mate in his arms, her warm skin slippery and exposed to his hungry eyes. Nudging at her, he got her to lie down before he feasted on her, every bit of him focused on bringing her pleasure. There were so many places to lick and touch and kiss, her soft little body decorated with his bites. He kissed every one, hearing her soft cries as she arched beneath him.

He cupped her breasts, lifting them so he could nuzzle at the undersides, and she cried out, her hands plunging into his hair to hold him in place. This was a new place, a new discovery, and his mate keened as he alternated his licks with gentle scrapes of his teeth. This place was too delicate to mark, so he sucked instead, feeling her squirming beneath him, "Nick, please!"

It wasn't right for his mate to plead with him. He would gladly meet her every need, give her everything she wanted. Pleasing her was his reason for existing. He licked his way down her body, grumbling at the odd taste of the water on her skin. It was inert, lifeless, and he didn't like the way it distracted him from the sweet salt taste of his mate's sweat and skin.

When he reached his favorite place, he could taste nothing but her, and he growled in delight as he lapped at her ravenously, her sweetness overpowering the strange water. Clawing gently at her hips, he encouraged her to rock against him as he licked her, his mate's cries filling his ears as she petted and tugged at his hair. This was where he belonged, where he always wanted to be. He couldn't get enough of her cries of delight or the way her body moved against him so trustingly.

His mate deserved pleasure, deserved to feel nothing but ecstasy and joy. He would give her pleasure, would prove that she'd chosen well in allowing him to be her mate. She screamed for him again and again, and it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

She was so tight around his fingers, and he growled at the thought of feeling her wrapped around his cock. With his free hand, he pulled at his own hair in punishment for his selfishness. His mate needed this, needed him. He couldn't be greedy.

"Nick, _please_!" she keened, and he lifted his mouth from her to see what was wrong. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and yanked him up for a kiss, and his eyes rolled back in his head as his mate licked the taste of herself off his tongue. "In me," she growled.

He slammed into her with a ragged cry that she echoed, clawing at the ground in an effort not to come at once. He would _not_ disappoint his mate. She lapped at his lower lip, and he only then realized he'd nearly bitten through it as he attempted to keep control.

The floor was slippery, and she yelped, clinging to him as his first thrust sent both of them skidding. With a grumble, he tried again, his knees slipping, and this was not going to work. Locking his arms around her, he turned them over so she was astride him, and his mate's mouth opened in a coo of pleasure as the position allowed him to push deeper. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself up then sank back down, and he threw his head back with a howl of sheer pleasure.

Beaming at him, his mate did it again and then again, her sweet body engulfing him in heat and bliss. It was glorious, but her breath was coming fast, and she shouldn't have to work so hard. It was his job to please her.

Keeping his arms around her, he staggered to his feet, their bodies locked together as he managed to pin her against the wall. He planted his feet, making sure he wouldn't slip and drop her, then started to thrust in long, deep strokes that made his mate sigh and arch against him, her head dropping back.

He sucked at one of the marks he'd left on her throat, darkening it more, but it still wasn't enough. He needed to leave a permanent mark on his mate, something that would make her his eternally.

Her nails raked down his back, and he growled, loving how possessive it felt. Helplessly, he thrust harder, plunging into her, and suddenly his mind caught fire. A cub. He'd plant a cub in her. She'd be his forever then- mate and mother and _his_. They'd be a pack.

Her soft body would round with his cub, and no one would ever be able to take her away from him. The thought made him howl, and he exploded within her, desperately fumbling for the place he so loved to lick in an effort to bring her with him.

His mate writhed and keened in his arms, and he kept thrusting, prolonging her pleasure until his knees gave out. They cuddled together in the mist, his hand splayed over her stomach where their cub would grow.

He whimpered when she extricated herself from his arms, but she returned to his side almost immediately with the soap in her hands, working up a lather between her palms before she began to slide her soft little paws over him, soothing aching muscles. He subsided with a happy rumble, enjoying her ministrations. "Roll over, sweetheart," she crooned, and he obeyed, the cool floor feeling good against his overheated body.

She draped herself over him, rubbing his back in long strokes that made him groan in bliss before working her way lower to squeeze his arse. "Doesn't that feel better?" she purred, "Nice and clean?"

He could think of something that would feel better yet, but she fended off his attempt to pull her down with him. "Oh no. Food," she said decisively, leaving him no choice but to follow her out of the wet space and watch with regret as she toweled herself off and slipped her clothes back on. At least she was still wearing his shirt.

Obediently, he let her dry him off as well and wrap the damp towel around his waist. It was wet enough to feel unpleasant, but for some reason, the thought of going out unclothed no longer held any appeal.

Holding Belle's hand made up for the discomfort, and she led him back to the large, echoey place, retrieving two bowls of something that looked revolting and didn't smell much better. Most of the others had gone away, but a few were still hanging about, watching him and his mate, and he held his head higher. Let them look. Let them envy him for his beautiful mate. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he nuzzled her neck, running his tongue over one of his marks, and she giggled, squirming in his arms.

With a growl, he pulled her tighter, pressing his hips against her so she could feel how pleased he was to be with her, how proud he was to be her mate. "Not here, Nick!" she scolded, but she didn't push him away as he nipped gently at her throat.

He was almost sorry to leave the echoey place. There was a table that was just the right height for her to lay on while he pleased her in front of the others. Nothing could stake his claim more clearly than that, but she refused to cooperate, instead leading him back to their den.

They snuggled together in their cozy nest as they ate, and he almost immediately grew bored with the slop. It tasted of nothing, and he dragged his fingers through it, painting a thick stripe across his mate's collarbone. The slop tasted much better when licked off her skin, and he growled with pleasure as she reclined on the bed.

When she put her own bowl aside, he frowned and pressed it back into her hands. She'd said she was hungry. She needed to eat, even if it was slop. Perhaps later he could find something to hunt for her. His mate needed to keep up her strength, especially if they were going to make a cub.

He rumbled happily at the thought of their cub. It would be good to be a pack. His mate would be gorgeous with a swollen belly, every inch of her announcing his claim.

He waited patiently until she'd finished eating, then gathered more of the slop on his fingers, decorating her chest in swirls. She gasped when he carefully painted her nipples, and he started there, cleaning away every bit of the slop with flicks of his tongue and gentle scrapes from his teeth.

It was hard not to bite when she tasted so delicious, but he'd promised. His mate was sore, and he would not hurt her. Bad enough that he'd left bruises with his clumsy hands. Never again would his mate know a moment of discomfort because of him, only pleasure.

With another swipe of the slop, he painted a series of angular figures on her stomach, and she looked down at them curiously, her breath catching. "Nick?"

He hummed in response, leaning down to lick the figures away before she caught his jaw in her hand, stopping him. "Do you know what you wrote?"

She guided him to look down at the figures, and he stared at them, perplexed. He hadn't realized he was writing anything, but now that she'd pointed it out, the figures looked familiar. There was an itch at the back of his mind, something demanding his attention as words formed in his head- Destiny, Ancient. "Love," he rumbled, not knowing how he knew that.

"Yes," she smiled, releasing him so he could lick the word away. Dipping his fingers into the slop, he tried again, and she giggled at the new word. "Mine."

"Mine," he repeated, beaming at her. Belle was his in all ways possible. Whatever had been wrong, he'd fixed it. She looked happy again. His mate was relaxed and smiling at him, and nothing could go wrong here in their nest.

After he'd lapped up the word, Belle wrote one herself, and he puzzled over it, waiting for the itch to come back. After a moment it did, and he read it aloud, "Yours."

"Yours," she echoed, and that was true too. He belonged to her completely, and he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in his mate, but the itch had turned into an uncomfortable pressure, his head aching with it.

Strange thoughts broke through, and he heard someone snarl, _'Get away from her!_' Whimpering, he blanketed his mate with his body, burying his face against her throat.

"Nick?" she murmured, sounding worried as she stroked his hair, "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

He clung to her, trembling. There was someone else in his head, and the Other was bellowing in rage, shouting words he could barely make out. '_Bastard... forcing yourself on her... leave her alone_!'

He snarled at it, clawing at the edges of his mind in an effort to lock it away. Their nest had room for only two. The voice didn't belong here.

His mate was talking too, and she sounded upset, "Does your head hurt? Your hand? We should get TJ to look at you again. Nick, talk to me, please."

The voice had upset his mate, and that gave him the strength to shove it back with a growl of rage. It was not welcome here. In the back of his mind, it babbled on, and he moaned, seizing his mate's mouth in desperation.

The roar of pleasure drowned out the voice, and he groaned in relief, rubbing himself against her. Her fingers carded through his hair, pulling him away from her, and he whimpered and fought, straining his neck to claim her mouth again. He needed her mouth, needed her. She made the voice go away.

"Nick, are you all right?" she asked urgently, and he broke free of her hold to cover her face in frantic kisses, working his way down her throat. He was biting again, sharp little nips that he couldn't hold back. The voice wanted to take her away from him. Nothing could take her away from him.

"_Mine_," he snarled, staring down at her desperately, "Mine. Mate. _Need_ you."

"Okay," she breathed, parting her legs for him, and he shoved himself between her thighs, grinding himself against her.

She wrapped her fingers around him, guiding him in, and he thrust deep, burying himself in her as he claimed her mouth again. This was better. With his cock buried in her body and his tongue buried in her mouth, he could ignore the voice, drown it out with pure joy. Belle was his mate, and he'd never let her go. Nothing would ever make him let her go.

His movements were jerky and erratic, and his mate ran her gentle paws over his back, trying to soothe him. He needed to be deeper, needed more, needed to be so deep in his mate that nothing could ever tear them apart. "Mine," he groaned, sliding his arms under her knees to draw her legs back more, letting him thrust even deeper.

"Mine... _Mine_..." he snarled with every jerk of his hips, and his mate scraped her nails along his spine. "More," he pleaded. He needed her to claw him, leave marks, _claim_ him. He needed to be hers. Then the voice would be silent.

"Mine," she hissed, and he threw his head back and howled, his eyes rolling back in his head when his mate sunk her teeth into his neck. She tugged roughly, sucking hard to draw his blood to the surface, then released him and bit again, just the slightest bit higher. She was marking him as her own, and it drove him out of his mind.

With a roar, he spilled himself in her, slamming himself as deep as he could go as his back arched, grinding against her as he struggled to push deeper yet. "That's it, sweetheart, that's right," she crooned as he shuddered and growled, her lips painting the marks she'd left.

She continued to lick them as he collapsed upon her, struggling for breath. The voice had gone silent, forced away by his mate's touch, and he smirked, feeling smug. No voice was a match for his mate.

She continued to stroke him with tender hands, and he went cold as he realized what he'd done. He'd found his pleasure without her, left her unsatisfied, _failed_ her. Whimpering he lifted himself off of her, desperate to put things right. He'd been greedy; now it was her turn.

Her stomach was still decorated with smears of the slop, and he leaned down to lick her clean, careful not to miss a single smudge. It seemed to have gotten all over, and it gave him an excuse to lick every inch of her, paying particular attention to her breasts. His mate had perfect breasts, and he never grew tired of simply gazing at them. To be allowed to touch and taste was a gift beyond price.

"Nice and clean," he rasped, repeating her words from earlier, and her nose crinkled as she smiled at him.

"Much better," she praised, and he kissed the smile away, moving down her body until she stopped him by catching his shoulder.

He looked up at her in dismay, but her sweet smile soothed his worries. "I'm exhausted, sweetheart. You wore me out." She said it with such affection that he felt a degree of pride. "Hold me?"

Happily he spooned up behind her, his arms tight around her as he twined their legs together as well, tangling them together completely. Like this he could protect her- guard her dreams and defend her from all harm. Burying his face against her throat, he licked her in long strokes, soothing her into sleep before following her himself, warm and content.

His dreams were odd, and he grumbled in his sleep, half-waking to pull his mate closer. His head felt strange again, and he wanted her touch, but she was asleep. He wouldn't wake her. Instead he closed his mouth over the place where her neck met her shoulder and suckled, her warmth and sweetness calming him back into sleep.

Rush awoke with a jerk, blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out where he was. He'd been on a planet, and there'd been a plant, and then everything had gone foggy and strange.

Someone was in bed with him, and he looked down at a familiar crown of chestnut curls, his assistant snuggled in his arms, both of them naked as they day they were born. Seeing Belle flipped a switch, and his mind suddenly flooded with images.

_"Stay behind me. Something's wrong with him."_

_"Leave Belle alone."_

_"Nick, stop. No touching."_

_"Doctor Rush, wake up please!"_

He jerked back, scrambling off the bed and away from her, his knees drawn up as he covered his mouth to muffle his cry of horror. On the bed, Belle rolled over into the warm spot where he'd been, and even in the room's dim light he could clearly see the marks he'd left on her. Her pale skin was covered in bruises and bites, and something primal growled with pleasure at the sight of them. Belle was his, and anyone looking at her could see how well he'd claimed her.

Rush didn't realize he'd started crawling back toward the bed until he smacked into it, his hands reaching for Belle. He needed to touch her, just for a moment. He needed to feel her warmth and soft skin, to kiss her and please her and prove his love for her.

His love. He bit back a hysterical laugh. He'd been entranced by Belle since the day he met her, and he'd fallen more in love with her every day. He'd dreamed that one day she might return his feelings, but the plant had shattered that pretty fantasy. She'd never permit him to be near her again.

He'd forced himself on her.

Groaning with shame and desire, he felt himself hardening at the memory of having Belle pinned under him on the bed and against the wall. She'd been so soft, so beautiful, and he'd wanted her so much.

She'd told him no, told him to stop, and he hadn't listened. He'd kissed away her protests, never taking his hands off of her. He'd been plastered to her, his superior strength meaning she was trapped. She'd never had a chance of escape, never had a choice.

He'd bit her, bruised her, hurt her, and he cringed as he felt his blood start to boil at the memories. By god, he was a sick bastard. He was actually getting turned on by the memory of forcing himself on his assistant. He was a fucking _animal_.

Belle shifted in her sleep, rolling onto her back and giving him a view of her breasts that made his mouth go dry and his fingers itch. With sick fascination he watched himself reach for her, his fingers almost brushing her soft skin before he forced his hand back. He had to get out of this room before he lost control.

Struggling into his jeans, Rush fled the room, not daring to look back at Belle. The sight of her in his bed where he'd wanted her for so long was more than he could handle. He could feel something clawing at his gut, begging him to return, and he identified it as the beast, the monster who'd hurt Belle.

Even now all the beast wanted was to crawl back into bed with her and take her again, and Rush broke into a run, heading for the deepest recesses of the ship. He couldn't be trusted until he knew he had the beast under control. A sharp keening noise filled his ears, and he realized it was coming from his own throat as the beast howled in rage at being separated from Belle.

"It's your fault," he hissed at it, finding a dark nook to press himself into. No one would find him here even if they bothered to look. "You hurt her."

Rush ground his teeth, his eyes burning. This was no alien life form that had harmed Belle. It was him, all the sticky, revolting parts that were left over when civilization was stripped away. At his core, he was the kind of man who'd force himself on the woman he loved.

He'd had vague, grand dreams of proving himself worthy of a good soul like Belle, of winning her over and earning her love. Now that she knew what he really was, all hope was lost. After what he'd done, she'd hate him. She'd be frightened of him. This wasn't an argument that could be brushed over by him bringing her a few interesting rocks from the latest planet; this was a cataclysm.

Belle had tried to help him, and he'd repaid her by hurting her. The best thing in his life was lost to him forever. Closing his eyes, Rush pressed himself deeper into his shadowy nook as inside of him, the beast howled for its mate.


	5. Chapter 5

Belle stirred and stretched lazily, her body aching in the most wonderful way. She felt like she'd run a marathon, and she smiled senselessly at the universe until she suddenly realized Nick wasn't beside her.

That snapped her into full wakefulness, and she sat up, looking around the room. "Nick?"

Of Rush there was no sign, and she willed herself not to panic as she took stock. Their clothes were still in a tangle on the floor, but his jeans were missing, which could either be a bad sign or a good one. Clearly, he'd gone somewhere, and the thought that he'd bothered to dress at all was reassuring. Last night he'd demonstrated that he could once again read and write Ancient, and he seemed more coherent. The thorns had to be wearing off.

It would be good to have the real Nicholas Rush back. She missed his dry wit, and without his brilliance the ship wouldn't be able to function. Still, for the last thirty-six hours she'd been the center of his universe, and Belle admitted to herself that she'd miss that too. It had been nice to feel so loved and worshipped after being alone for so long.

He'd been acting strange before they fell asleep, and Belle got out of bed, dressing quickly in her jeans and his shirt, her own still a shredded mess. Concern filled her, and she left the room, checking the halls for any sign of him. If he'd gotten his mind back, his first destination would probably be the console room, although the fact that he'd left his shoes and white shirt on the floor wasn't encouraging.

The radio was still a smashed pile of components, so Belle explored on foot, checking the showers, the mess hall, and the console room for any sign of Nick. She questioned anyone she could get to stop and talk to her, but most people turned and headed the other way when they spotted her. At first she couldn't figure out what was wrong, but she quickly realized that she and Nick had been putting on quite a show for the crew over the last two days.

Face burning at the thought of the rumors that must be going around, she hurried through the corridors, hoping against hope that Nick had actually seen the need to seek medical attention without being dragged in to see TJ. Unfortunately the blond medic hadn't seen him either, and Belle leaned against the wall outside the infirmary torn between worry and frustration. No one had seen him. He wasn't on the observation deck or the bridge or any of his usual haunts, and this was not like Nick at all.

Something was wrong.

Cold fear coursed through her veins as another possibility presented itself. Nick might be avoiding _her_ specifically. Perhaps he'd been so appalled at finding himself in bed with her that he'd fled his quarters without bothering to dress fully. "Shit," she cursed quietly, guilt making her stomach clench. She'd known he wasn't in his right mind, and she'd still had sex with him. He'd said he'd always wanted her, but that could easily have been the plant talking. She'd taken advantage of him.

Seeking him out might do more harm than good, but Belle didn't feel that she had a choice. If Nick was still suffering the thorns' effects, he could be in danger. He could be lost and frightened. She had to make sure that he was safe. Once she'd done that, she could apologize and assure him that she'd never come near him again. It wouldn't be easy to completely avoid him, but she'd ask for her duties to be reassigned and do her best.

Tears stinging her eyes, she moved deeper into the heart of Destiny, away from the populated areas as she strained her ears for any sign of Nick. This wasn't what she'd wanted. This was the _last_ thing she wanted. She'd hoped this was the start of a new phase of their relationship- lovers as well as tentative friends- but instead she'd ruined everything with her impatience. If she'd waited for him to come out of it so they could talk it over, maybe they could have had a chance, but instead she'd thrown herself into bed with him even though she _knew_ he wasn't thinking straight. She was no better than Regina, taking a man without his consent.

She didn't know how she'd ever apologize, but she had to try, acknowledge the wrongdoing even though Nick's forgiveness was out of reach. Shaking her head, Belle realized she needed to stop thinking of him as Nick. She'd lost that right. He was Doctor Rush to her now.

A faint sound caught her attention, a faint scrabbling noise, and she moved toward it. "Doctor Rush?"

A whimpering, keening noise echoed around her, the sound cutting off abruptly like he'd clenched his teeth. "Are you all right?" she called, the noise worrying her.

She stepped further into the shadows, movement catching her eye as she blinked rapidly, trying to will her eyes to adjust. Rush was cowering in a dark corner, his hair hanging in his face as he tried to back away from her, holding his hands up in front of him to ward her off. Feeling sick at what her actions had done to him, she halted at once, trying to give him space.

"Stay back," he rasped, and she immediately took a step backwards, crouching to put herself on level with him, trying not to tower over him or do anything else that could be construed as a threat.

"I won't hurt you," she promised, and her heart ached at his hoarse, humorless laugh. She'd already hurt him. Of course he didn't trust her. Groping for something to say, Belle looked down, licking her dry lips.

His tortured cry made her jump as Rush lunged at her, bringing himself up short before he touched her and darting back into his corner, visibly shaking. As she watched, he curled himself into a ball, his arms wrapped around his head. "Go away."

The hysterical thought that maybe he'd feel better if he hit her crossed her mind, but Belle couldn't quite bring herself to offer him a free shot. "I'll go away, but you can't stay here. Let TJ look after you, please, Doctor Rush?"

He shook his head violently, his skull knocking against the metal wall. He was whimpering, sounding like he was in agony, and Belle was afraid to leave him. If she did, he could hide himself away even deeper, and they might never find him again. She was the last person in the world he wanted, but at the moment she was all he had. "Doctor Rush, you're not well. TJ can help you. Please come with me, just to the infirmary. Then I'll go."

Taking a risk, she stepped closer, gasping as he cried out, his nails digging into his scalp. Her presence upset him so much that he was hurting himself, and she stumbled backward. She couldn't help him. She'd find TJ and tell her where she'd left Nick, hoping the other woman would be able to find him. All Belle was doing was making things worse.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped, the guilt choking her as she backed away, tears blinding her. She turned to leave, cursing her clumsiness as she tripped over her own feet and fell, catching herself on the heels of her hands, her body jolting from the impact.

An instant later warm hands turned her over, guiding her to lean back against the wall as Nick whimpered in dismay, running his hands over her as he checked for injuries. He was breathing too hard and too fast, his hands shaking as he caught her wrists, lifting her hands so he could inspect them. "Doctor Rush?"

He keened at the sound of his name, pressing his face into her hands, his tongue rasping over her palms. "_Belle_," he moaned, the sound tortured. "Belle, _run_."

"Nick?" A moment ago he'd been terrified of her, and now he was licking her hands and clinging to her like she was his salvation. None of this made any sense.

A snarl met her ears, then he yanked her into his arms, burying his face against her throat as he started to lick, breathless little moans escaping him as he straddled her lap. "Yes, yes... Mine. My mate. _Mine_."

That was the thorns talking, and Belle wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She put her hands on his shoulders and shoved, Nick struggling to hold onto her for a long moment before he tore himself away with a feral cry, moving to sit against the opposite wall, his arms wrapped around his knees. "I'm sorry!" he gasped. "I'm not right- not _safe_- Belle, run!"

She'd gotten him out of his corner, and that was a start. "Doctor Rush, _please_ come with me. Let me take you to the infirmary."

He slammed the back of his head into the wall, looking at her with agonized eyes. "Why won't you _go_?"

"Because you're not right." She gave him his own words back, seeing him shudder. "I can't leave you like this. You need help."

Rush curled in on himself, his voice muffled by his hands as he covered his face. "Why do you care? After what I did to you?"

His voice was so thick with loathing that she could barely make out the words. When she did, they made no sense. "After what you did to me?"

He clawed at his head, whimpering. "Took you, forced you, hurt you, so _sorry_. Belle, _go_."

Her heart pounded in her chest as his meaning registered. Nick wasn't upset because she'd taken advantage of him; he was upset because he thought he'd taken advantage of _her_. If he wasn't in such a state, she'd be tempted to laugh at the misunderstanding. "Sweetheart," she murmured, moving to touch his shoulder, and he cried out, clawing harder. Belle caught his hands, holding them tightly in her own so he couldn't inflict any more damage. "You didn't force me."

He keened, fighting her hold, and she tightened her grip. "Stop that. Stop. Breathe, Nick. Try to calm down. Listen to me. You didn't force me. I wanted it. I wanted you."

His eyes met hers, dark with anguish and desperate hope. "You're lying," he rasped. "Trying to protect me."

"I'm not that nice," she informed him, releasing his hand so she could press her fingers against one of the bite marks she'd left on his neck. Nick hissed, arching into the touch. "Remember this? You didn't take anything I didn't want to give."

His grip on her other hand tightened almost painfully, and Belle pressed her advantage. "I thought about it, about what being with you would be like. I didn't think you wanted me."

"Always," he rasped, hope slowly spreading over his face. "Always wanted you. _Always_."

"I thought you didn't," she admitted, letting some of the hurt she'd felt when she woke up alone color her voice, "I thought you regretted it. That I took advantage of you."

He whimpered, yanking her into his arms so he could wrap himself around her, and Belle sighed, feeling the tension start to bleed out of her. "Thought I hurt you. That you'd hate me. Didn't trust myself not to do it again."

He'd fled to protect her, and that soothed the hurt. "It's all right, sweetheart," she assured him, rubbing the back of his neck. "You didn't hurt me at all. I wanted it too."

His tongue rasped over her throat, and she smiled at the familiar sensation, burrowing her fingers into his thick hair. "That feels nice," she praised, and he rumbled, licking more enthusiastically.

The licks turned gradually into open mouthed kisses and gentle scrapes of his teeth, and Belle eased him away from her, seeing terror in his eyes as he jerked back as far as he could with her still in his lap. "Hush," she soothed, "I just want to talk for a second."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, visibly trying to regain control of himself. She stroked his hair, trying to help him calm down, and asked, "How do you feel? Honestly?"

"It's like there's something else… inside me. Something wild," his voice was husky, and this shouldn't be as much of a turn-on for her as it was.

Swallowing hard, Belle forced herself to think, her mind racing. "Is it some kind of parasite? Should we be worried about this?" She'd assumed the thorns were just exaggerating different parts of Nick's personality, and the thought of it being some kind of alien creature that was controlling his actions was terrifying.

To her relief, Nick immediately shook his head. "No, it's all me. My instincts, the primal parts."

"Your id," she suggested, grateful that she'd read Freud. Nick nodded at her assessment. "Can you control it?"

He gave her a scorching look and observed, "You're not naked."

Flushing, she tripped over her words. "Is that what… it wants?"

"That's what _I_ want," he corrected, tightening his grip on her. "That's what I always want- you naked and screaming for me."

At the moment, Belle thought his plan sounded like a very good one. She just had one last question. "The biting?"

His eyes darkened, his gaze running over the bruises on her throat like a caress. "Mine," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Now everyone knows. No one can take you away from me. You're _mine_."

Her breath caught at the sheer possessiveness of his tone. Belle had never cared to be chattel, but having Nick declare her his filled her with nothing but pleasure. "And you're mine," she purred, smiling at his immediate nod. There was little enough on Destiny that she could call her own, but if Nick belonged to her, she had all she needed. They belonged to each other.

"All yours," he agreed, rumbling with pleasure as she ran her fingers over the bruises on his neck before cradling the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss. His lips caressed hers with surprising tenderness before he pulled back, looking almost bashful as he murmured, "Love you."

Belle's heart melted, and she snuggled into his embrace. "I love you too, Nick." She hadn't realized it before all this started, but now she couldn't imagine not loving this complex man. She'd admired his brilliance and enjoyed his wit, but she'd somehow missed the sheer depth of emotion he was capable of, and that mistake shamed her. She wouldn't make it again.

He looked so delighted by the words that tears filled her eyes. Whimpering at the sight of them, Nick bore her back onto the floor, nuzzling the side of her face to comfort her. "I'm not sad, sweetheart," she promised, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm happy. I'm happy about us."

Nick beamed down at her, nudging her nose with his, and she gave him a watery smile in return. They were officially an us, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy. This would be good for him, good for both of them. Hopefully knowing that he had her permanently in his corner would help him relax his guard a bit.

That was a thought for later. It had been hours since they last made love, and they were long overdue. "My mate," she murmured, and he lit up, rumbling happily at her. She was just about to suggest they return to his quarters- their quarters now- when he lowered his head, closing his teeth gently around her throat as he started to suck.

Moaning, she arched her neck to give him better access, his hands exploring her through her thin tee shirt, fingers plucking impatiently at the fabric. Concerned that his shirt was about to meet the same fate as her blouse, she grasped the hem, pushing Nick off of her just long enough to wrest it off over her head. He growled appreciatively at the sight of her, and even the cold floor wasn't enough to dampen the mood. Beds were overrated.

Gentle fingers traced over the marks he'd left on her, Nick humming at the sight of them. "All mine," he said with satisfaction, leaning down to lick them.

"All yours," she agreed, and he nipped playfully at her collarbone, letting out a snuffly laugh when she yelped. "Silly," she said fondly, carding her fingers through his hair.

He lifted himself off of her despite her noise of protest, divesting her of the rest of her clothing in a matter of moments. His dexterity had certainly improved since the previous day, and she took advantage of his distracted attempt to get his own jeans off and caress her at the same time to reverse their positions, straddling his hips.

Moaning, he arched beneath her, his hard length pressing against her core. Giving into temptation she ground herself down, familiar heat flooding her. Nick had given her endless amounts of pleasure, and it was high time she returned the favor. Belle ran her hands over his chest, pinching his nipples and relishing his choked cry.

"_Belle_…" he growled a warning, gripping her hips as he tried to flip them back over, and she pinched harder, tormenting the tight buds until he subsided. "Let me touch you," he pleaded, fingers combing down her back.

"It's my turn to touch you," she crooned, and he let out a frustrated whimper. Belle replaced her fingers with her lips and tongue, lapping at each nipple in turn before scraping each with her teeth until he keened desperately, arching beneath her. "Mine."

Rewarding him for his compliance, she nuzzled each mark she'd left on him, reminding him that she'd been an active participant in their earlier activities. "You know, everyone saw you like this, saw you with bites and scratches all over you."

Far from seeming embarrassed, he rumbled with delight, and the look on his face was almost comically proud when she glanced up at him. "You like that, don't you?" she purred, kissing her way down his chest and over his quivering stomach, "Everyone knows what we were doing."

"Pleased you," he said, voice smug, and she rested her cheek against his stomach as she giggled, then flicked her tongue into his navel.

"Yes, you did, sweetheart," she agreed, admiring the way his cock twitched impatiently at the endearment. "Now I'm going to please you."

She ran her tongue up the length of his shaft, catching the head between her lips to draw him deeper as Nick let out a growl of pleasure. Wrapping her hand around the base of him, she slid her mouth down as far as she could, loving the desperate whines that met her ears as she teased the underside with her tongue.

Nick's hands plunged into her hair, trying to tug her away, and she batted at him until he stopped. He'd pleased her again and again and a few more times after that. The least she could do was return the favor. A rhythmic thumping noise broke her concentration, and she glanced up to see him knocking the back of his head against the floor, his face contorted with what looked like agony.

He let out a whimpering cry as she took her mouth off of him for a moment. "What's wrong?"

When he tried to tug her up to him, she warded him off, giving the base of his shaft a gentle squeeze of warning. "You," he rasped, "Have to please you. Can't be greedy."

"Oh, sweetheart." Belle pressed a tender kiss to the tip, relishing his grunt of pleasure. "This pleases me. Just enjoy it. You deserve it."

He flopped back with a growl and a long-suffering expression that made her chuckle, muffling her laughter by taking him in her mouth again. Her giggles faded as she experimented. Nick had her at a disadvantage. Over the past day, he'd learned what she liked in great detail, but he hadn't given her the same chance to learn his weaknesses, and Belle didn't like not knowing things.

Nick seemed highly in favor of _everything_ she did, but she quickly discovered that his preference was for long, slow, deep strokes and firm pressure from her tongue. Guttural groans rewarded her when she did that, and she found a rhythm, her free hand caressing everywhere she could reach before cradling his balls, loving how they tightened for her.

Near-constant whimpers and groans filled the air as Nick's hips started to rock up to meet her, little movements that spoke of his desperation, and Belle doubled her efforts, flicking her tongue against the places she'd discovered made him shiver. Strong hands clutched her shoulders, trying to pull her away, and she released her hold on him to grab his hands and squeeze, encouraging him to let go.

Beneath her he tensed, his body going rigid for a long moment before a howl rent the air, his seed flooding her mouth in desperate bursts, and she drank him down greedily. She'd pleased her mate, and it was wonderful to feel him come apart and know that it was because of her. It was no wonder he enjoyed doing this so much.

With a final swipe of her tongue, she released him and crawled up his body, trailing her fingers over his heaving chest as she kissed his forehead. Dazed eyes blinked open to meet hers, and she smiled down at him, leaning over to brush her lips against his.

Belle gasped as Nick thrust his tongue into her mouth, growling as he licked the taste of himself off of her. "Mine!" he snarled against her lips, and she suddenly found herself on her back with him looming over her, gazing down at her nude body ravenously.

"Your turn," she agreed weakly, and his smile turned lascivious as he ducked his head, running his tongue over her in long strokes.

"All mine," he rumbled, nuzzling happily against her breasts, his bearded cheek tickling her sensitive skin. She giggled at the sensation, and he beamed up at her before doing it again, rubbing against her like a cat.

"My sweet Nick…" she said fondly, stroking his hair. How had she never realized how much pent-up emotion there was inside of him? She'd seen the brilliant scientist, but if it wasn't for the thorns, she might never have realized how much love he had to offer.

At least she realized it now, and it was incredibly sweet to be the sole focus of that love. In time perhaps she could help him connect with the others, but for now, she felt oddly territorial of Nick. He was her mate- hers and hers alone. "You're all mine."

Fevered lips collided with hers as Nick settled himself on top of her, his hands stroking possessively over her sides before slipping beneath her to squeeze her ass. She wrapped her legs around his hips, flattered and somehow unsurprised to feel he was already getting aroused again. If they could find a way to distill the thorns' essence, they'd make a fortune on Earth.

The idea made her laugh, and she broke the kiss, Nick looking down at her in confusion before he laughed too, content to share the moment even if he didn't understand. He swiped his tongue over her lips and kissed the tip of her nose, then moved down her body, pressing random kisses to every bit of her he could reach before insinuating himself between her legs with a hopeful rumble, "Mine?"

"Yours," she agreed, her eyes slipping closed at the first long lick. Nick was a merciless lover, exploiting every weakness she had to turn her into a trembling, writhing wreck. He growled as he lapped at her, and Belle echoed every noise he made with one of her own, her cries echoing through the narrow corridors. Anyone approaching would think she was being murdered, but after what Nick had done to Young, she doubted anyone would be coming to her rescue. That certainly suited her.

Her back arched convulsively as he thrust his fingers into her, curling them to rub against the spot he'd discovered earlier and making her world shatter with one final lick. Giving her only a moment to catch her breath, he returned to his task, licking her until her throat was sore from screaming, her muscles about to lock up from the sheer overload of pleasure. "Nick, stop!"

He grumbled at the command, and she grabbed him by the back of his neck to yank him down for a kiss. "Are you _trying_ to kill me?" she demanded.

Nick nuzzled her jawline, licking his way to her ear so he could nibble on the lobe. "Your fault," he growled, "Delicious."

"_Oh_…" she sighed, her eyelids fluttering as her body responded viscerally to those words.

She wriggled beneath him, cradling him between her thighs, and Nick grunted as his hardness came into contact with her core. "Yes," she breathed before he could ask, and he scraped his teeth over her throat, pushing into her in one long stroke.

"Oh, yes," she whispered again as he took hold of her legs, moving them to his shoulders so he could push even deeper, his dark eyes intent on hers, worry in their depths. They'd tried this once before in his quarters, and he'd gotten upset for reasons she still didn't quite understand. Belle resolved not to let the same thing happen again.

She arched into each deep, slow thrust, reaching up to bury her hands in his hair, scratching her nails lightly against his scalp. "My Nick. My mate," she murmured, holding the eye contact as some of his worry faded. "I love you, my Nick."

"My Belle. All mine. Always," he answered. The worry was slowly being replaced by a desperate hope, and Belle smiled tenderly up at him.

"All yours. Always," she agreed. No matter what happened, whether they made it back to Earth or not, she and Nick belonged together. It had been an unconventional courtship, but they were an unconventional couple. What mattered was that they were together now. "Forever."

Nick's eyes were suspiciously bright as he smiled down at her, then he slid his arms around her, pulling her with him as he sat up. Feeling teary herself, Belle wrapped herself around him, feeling fiercely protective. Nick was safe here in her arms and in her body, and she would let no harm come to him. He'd suffered more than enough for one lifetime.

They were holding onto each other so tightly that they could barely move. With her in his lap, he was able to slide almost impossibly deep, and Belle wished they could stay like this forever, that reality would never come calling. She clenched her inner muscles around him, drawing him deeper yet, and Nick groaned, meeting her action with tiny movements of his hips, barely rocking against her.

It seemed to last an eternity, and it still ended all too soon, pleasure washing over both of them at the same moment as they gazed into each other's eyes, their breath mingling in soft cries of pleasure as they clung to each other with desperation.

Sighing, Belle let her head drop to rest against his shoulder, her eyes slipping shut as she felt Nick kiss her hair. "We're okay now?" she verified, not certain how anything could be wrong after that.

He chuckled, breath warm against the crown of her head. "Better than," he agreed.

"You scared me when you ran off," she admitted, and his hold on her tightened.

"Thought I hurt you," he murmured, "And I wanted to do it again. Felt like a monster."

"You're not a monster," she said at once, seeing the irony in having to reassure two very different men of the same thing. "You'd never hurt me, Nick."

"Never," he vowed, and she gasped as he lifted her off the floor, standing up with her still wrapped around him.

"Back to your quarters?" she suggested. She'd been so relieved to have Nick back that the cool air and hard metal floors had barely registered, but Belle found herself missing the comfortable bed.

"Our nest," he corrected her with a rumble of satisfaction, setting off down the corridor with her in his arms.

"Nick!" she squealed, tugging at a handful of his hair. "Clothes!"

He grumbled, turning to kick at the tangled pile of fabric, and she snickered, squirming in his arms. "You already put on a show for the crew," she reminded him, and he looked aggrieved but put her down.

"Eventually I'll probably be embarrassed about that," he muttered, yanking on his jeans, and zipping them up quickly, not bothering with the button as he picked her up again. She yelped, clutching the pile that was her jeans and shoes in her hands, having only had time to get his shirt on. It was better than nothing.

"So your primal side is a bit of an exhibitionist?" she asked archly, and he gave her a look that could have melted iron.

"My primal side wanted to take you in the middle of the mess hall," he growled, and her heart skipped a beat. "I still think it's a good idea."

The idea was not without its appeal, but Belle wasn't ready to agree quite yet. "Nest first," she suggested pragmatically, and Nick picked up his pace, clearly eager to reach their destination. "After that… maybe the console room?" she suggested, and he stumbled to a stop, looking down at her in surprise before a grin nearly split his face in two.

"Clever mate," he praised, stealing a kiss that took her breath away before setting off at a faster pace than before.

"Your mate," she agreed, snuggling into his embrace, and Nick rumbled happily at the touch.

"Mine."


	6. Chapter 6

Claiming Belle in the corridor had done wonders for his sanity, but curling up with her in their nest was a thousand times better, the beast purring smugly. It had known all along that Belle had welcomed him, and if he'd just listened to it, the trauma of the last hours could have been avoided.

They dozed the day away, making love every time they woke, and Rush couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good. He'd claimed Belle, made her his, and he was hers now. She was on his side. The beast, pacified by the presence of his mate, curled up contentedly, allowing his rational mind to regain control.

With the return of his sanity, the laundry list of things they still needed to accomplish also came to mind, and he sighed at the thought of leaving their den. Two days ago nothing had been more important to him than unraveling Destiny's mysteries, but that was before he'd had Belle to explore. Her mysteries were every bit as intriguing as the ship's, and he wanted to learn her inside and out.

With the beast no longer at the forefront of his mind, he couldn't keep ignoring his responsibilities. "We need to get back to work," he said reluctantly, pressing his mouth to her bare shoulder in an open mouthed kiss.

Belle giggled. "I wondered when you'd say that. I assumed it would be ten hours ago."

Growling playfully, he rolled her under him to nip at the marks he'd left on her neck, punishing her for teasing him, and Belle tugged at his hair until he released her, "If we start that again, we'll never get out of here."

The beast expressed a definite interest in that idea, but the rest of him shoved it down, and he rolled off of her with a groan. The rest of the science team could hardly be trusted to keep things running, and if they didn't get back to work someone would probably manage to find a way to drive them into a sun.

The thought of the science team brought back other memories, and Rush swung his legs out of bed and buried his face in his hands. "Fuck."

Belle moved to sit next to him, her arm around his shoulders. "What, sweetheart?"

The beast purred at the endearment, a sentiment he echoed. It had been a very long time since anyone had found reason to give him a pet name. "Everyone saw me like that."

"Your body is _nothing_ to be ashamed of," she told him with such sincerity that he preened a little. Having the crew see him naked was the least of his problems. The thought of them seeing the bites and scratches his mate had gifted him with was still a source of pride. It was the rest of it that mortified him. He'd been very careful to build barriers between himself and the rest of the crew- the rest of the world, really- but the thorns had destroyed those barriers. They'd seen him at his most vulnerable, and now he was an easy target.

"They saw me when I was… defenseless." Rush wasn't sure that was exactly the word he wanted, but telling even Belle what the real issue was seemed impossible. This thing between them was still too new, and he chafed at the thought of letting her know how deep his insecurities ran. Someday he would, but he wouldn't burden her with it now.

"You tried to bite TJ, and you tried to kill Young twice," Belle pointed out drily. "Hardly defenseless."

Her words gave him a new perspective on the situation. He usually preferred to fight with his intellect, but he'd proven himself a physical threat too over the past days. That might actually work in his favor. "I tried to kill Volker too," he admitted.

Belle dropped her head so that her forehead rested against his shoulder. "Of course you did," she said, her voice muffled. "And when was this?"

"I was looking for you. Smelled you on him." The beast growled softly at the memory, and he was going to have to learn to control that impulse. He could hardly lock Belle in their quarters and forbid her to ever interact with anyone else.

"Oh, Nick…" she sighed, and when she lifted her head, her voice was rich with humor. "If anything, people are probably _more_ scared of you now."

There was only one way to find out. They dressed, and although the beast grumbled at Belle covering up the marks he'd left on her, Rush thought she looked very fetching in his shirt. Perhaps he could talk her into not bothering to fix her blouse. He'd made such a mess of it that it hardly seemed a worthwhile use of her time. He didn't particularly care for how his waistcoat looked just over his white undershirt, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Their quarters were off the beaten path, and he enjoyed the few moments of privacy before they reached the ship's more heavily trafficked areas. Rush tensed when the first people came into sight, alert for any signs of mockery.

No one so much as smirked. Instead most people quickly averted their eyes and gave him and Belle a wide berth, although he was willing to swear Park tried to get a look at his arse. Mockery would be intolerable, but if his mere presence made people uncomfortable, he could certainly work with that.

His effect on Destiny's crew pleased him, but it wasn't until they reached the console room that Rush discovered what true discomfort was. The second they stepped into the room, Volker turned bright red, bending so far over his work that he seemed to be trying to disappear, and Eli's eyes all but bugged out of his head. "Hey! You look… better," he said carefully.

He nodded, and from his corner Brody raised an invisible glass in a toast. Beside him, Belle chuckled, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from doing the same as Eli started to babble, his curiosity getting the better of his good sense, "So, was it like pon farr? You've seen that episode, right? When Spock has to mate or die, and he almost kills Kirk, but that's what snaps him out of it? Not that I'm saying you and Belle were mating! Those noises could have been anything. Do you remember what happened or is it hazy? Or was it like you were a passenger in your body? That would be really-"

"Eli!" he snapped, cutting off the flood of words. "Break's over. Get back to work."

The younger man gulped audibly and kept mumbling as he and Belle took their normal stations, falling back into a comfortable routine. It was just like it was before, only now Belle touched him each time she passed him, gentle brushes of her hand over his arm or shoulders that made the beast purr. It was warm and comfortable and good, and he hadn't realized how starved he'd been for affectionate touch until he suddenly had it again.

Belle anchored him. He was constantly aware of her presence in the room, and instead of distracting him, it reassured him. He could still dive into the work, but he was no longer in danger of losing himself. Her warmth provided comfort as it reminded him that there was more to life than numbers. Destiny no longer had to be the focus of his being, because his life had so much more to offer him now.

He felt rejuvenated, like he'd had a months long vacation, and even as they worked late into the night, he felt like he had energy to spare. Despite that, he stopped when he saw Belle hiding a yawn behind her hand. The rest of the team had long since gone to bed, and the beast growled at this sign that his mate was tiring. His Belle needed to be cared for. She could not overtire herself.

"Ready to turn in?" At his question, she jerked her head up to stare at him in disbelief.

"It's only been ten hours," she reminded him.

For him that was barely a drop in the bucket, but if Belle needed to rest, they'd rest. The ship was in no immediate danger of falling apart around them, and when she arched her neck to work out the kinks, his mouth watered at the sight of the tempting skin, he and the beast in total agreement about what should happen next.

Approaching her, he rumbled when she stepped immediately into his arms, her fingers playing with his waistcoat. "Somebody said something about making use of the console room," he reminded her, and although she blushed, she met his eyes shamelessly.

"I might remember something about that," she said archly, and he grinned, grabbing her around the waist to lift her onto the central console. "Nick!"

"I've been very patient." This was the longest he'd managed to go without making love to her since all this started, and he deserved a reward for showing such restraint. He hadn't even kissed her in front of the others, letting the marks on her neck announce his claim.

Dropping his head, he nuzzled at the bite marks, the beast rumbling with pleasure when she tipped her head back to give him better access. Belle wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer as she arched into him, and he hardened at once at this sign of her desire for him. She was as eager as he was, her fingers burrowing into his hair to scratch at his scalp, and he growled happily at the touch, snaking his hands under her top to caress her back as he claimed her mouth.

Belle sucked on his tongue, rubbing herself against him, and he cupped her breast, teasing her nipple through her shirt. "Nick!" she gasped, her lips slipping from his, "Gods…"

They'd made love so many times that he'd actually lost count, but somehow he was even hungrier for her than before. "I can't get enough of you," he muttered as he claimed her mouth again, and her legs tightened, dragging him against her as she rocked her hips.

Growling, he started to thrust, rubbing himself against her, the denim of their jeans keeping the friction to a maddening tease. Apparently Belle was as frustrated as he was, because her hands found his belt, and she set to work undoing it without taking her mouth from his.

In moments she had him out, and his jeans puddled around his ankles as she cupped him. Rush had to break the kiss for fear of biting through her lip at the touch, and Belle gave him a squeeze that nearly sent him through the ceiling. "Take me, Nick."

He all but tore the rest of their clothes off, taking only a moment to verify that she was ready for him before slamming into her with a harsh cry. Belle gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as she rocked her hips impatiently, demanding more of him. He was more than happy to oblige, setting up a pounding rhythm. It felt like it had been years since he'd been inside of her, and he buried his face against her throat to muffle his cries of pleasure as he took her hard and fast on the console, Belle clinging to him desperately.

The only noises she was making were her soft little gasps, and he frowned. Belle was never quiet when he loved her. Before she'd moaned and screamed for him, but now she was hardly making a sound. Inside of him the beast snarled in anger, and he doubled his efforts, his fingers straying between her legs as he struggled to please his mate.

She tightened around him and shuddered, but the only noise that betrayed her was another breathless gasp. The fluttering of her inner walls dragged him with her, and he rubbed his face against her throat as he came down from his high, feeling guilty and worried and out of sorts.

There'd been little foreplay, but she hadn't seemed to want any, and he'd thought he was doing a good job. He hadn't lasted very long, but she'd climaxed. It just hadn't been much of a climax from the sounds of it.

The beast whined frantically at the thought that his mate could be dissatisfied, and a cold feeling crept down Rush's spine. It was the same body that had made love to Belle. The only difference had been in him. This was the first time he'd made love to her just as himself without the beast taking part, and he'd failed her.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling himself out of her arms and roughly tugging up his jeans.

"Nick?" Confused blue eyes blinked at him, and Belle shifted on the console, looking around the room for her clothes. "What's wrong?"

He did up his belt and handed her his brown shirt. It was ridiculous. The beast was a part of him. He was jealous of himself. Yet the thought that the beast could please her in a way that he couldn't made his gut twist. "It's fine."

"No, it's not," she contradicted, pulling this shirt over her head as she hopped down off the console. "Talk to me."

He shook his head and looked for his own shirt, freezing when her warm hands came to rest on his back. "Talk to me, sweetheart," she coaxed, sliding her arms around his waist from behind and resting her cheek against his back. "What's wrong?"

"I don't please you," he muttered, and the depth of bitterness in his tone surprised even him.

"What?" Disbelief was rampant in her voice, and she took his arm, forcing him to turn around and face her. "Of course you do."

"I don't," he corrected her, unable to meet her eyes. Instead he stared at the marks on her throat, the marks the beast had left. "You want him. It. The beast. Not me."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, and frustration flared through him. It he was willing to admit it, it was unkind of her to make him spell out what they both already knew.

"You screamed for him," he reminded her brutally, and he could see the flush rising up her neck. "You barely made a noise when I was inside you."

"Nick!" she exclaimed, then she grabbed his face in her hands and yanked him down for a kiss that spoke more of anger than desire. Even when she released his lips, she kept hold of him, forcing him to look at her. "For a brilliant man, you are an _idiot_."

"What?" he asked, and she kissed him again, hard.

"Have you forgotten that the console room is rather public?" she demanded, looking around the space that was even more their home than their quarters.

"So?" They'd made love in a corridor, and she'd screamed for him then.

"So, before Young thought you were killing me, and we were _in your quarters_. Nobody was anywhere near us in that corridor, but anyone could wander in here. I didn't want to give anyone a reason to investigate." Belle looked like she wanted to smack him and settled for slamming her lips into his again.

"You were _trying_ to be quiet?" he clarified, hope building within him.

"Of course I was trying to be quiet! I didn't want a repeat of the Young Affair. Once was bad enough." Although Belle looked embarrassed at the memory, the thought of claiming her in front of his greatest rival filled him with nothing but satisfaction.

"You don't prefer… it?" he pressed, needing the reassurance.

"_It_ is you. The beast is just another part of you. It's _you_ that I want Nick. All of you. Whatever you want to give me." Her expression softened, and she released her grip on his face, moving to stroke his hair.

The beast rumbled at the touch, and Rush let out a shaky sigh of relief as he let himself believe her words. Belle didn't see the sides of him as opposing forces but as parts of a whole, of him. She accepted all of him, and he hadn't realized how badly he needed that until he had it.

"Everything I am is yours," he rasped, and she pulled him down for a tender kiss.

"I love you, Nick. All of you," she vowed.

He moaned and pulled her closer, too busy kissing her to even say it back. After Gloria, he'd never expected to have happiness again, and then Belle had come along and shown him how beautiful life could be. He'd never be able to thank her enough for that gift.

Lifting her back onto the console, he tore his mouth from hers only long enough to pull her shirt off over her head, tossing it into a corner. When she tried to wrap her legs around him, he evaded her, kissing his way down her throat as he stroked her thighs. "Don't be quiet this time," he instructed, and he was rewarded with a moan when he closed his mouth over her nipple, tugging lightly with his teeth before he started to suck, his other hand cupping the warm weight of her other breast.

The beast whimpered and pawed, longing for its mate, and he loosened his hold on it slightly, feeling its howl of triumph as he allowed it a modicum of control. It wanted to suck and bite, and he redirected it into licks and kisses, remembering what Belle had said about the biting. His marks were all over her, and that would have to suffice for now.

He lavished attention on her breasts until she was moaning continually, her hands tugging at his hair, and only then did he allow himself to move lower, kissing his way over her soft stomach. 'Cub…' the beast rumbled, and he squeezed Belle's hips as he rubbed the side of his face against her, a fierce surge of longing jolting through him. Having a baby out here would be inviting trouble, but Rush couldn't deny how desperately he wanted it. He and Belle would be a family in truth, and it wouldn't matter if every other person on the ship hated him. They'd be a pack, and that would be enough for him.

Time would tell if they'd made a cub, and he took a moment to hope that they had. Belle would be a wonderful mother, and he would allow no harm to come to either of them. He'd keep them safe. Always.

He worked his way lower, nuzzling his nose against her nest of soft curls as he took a deep breath, his mate's intoxicating scent washing over him. As he did so, the beast howled its pleasure and his hold on it slipped, the beast surging to the forefront of his mind. His mate needed to be pleased. He would please her.

Burying his face against her, he licked ravenously, her sweet flavor filling his mouth, and he groaned at the taste of her. It had been hours, and he was _starving_ for her, unable to get enough. Rumbling in ecstasy, he licked and licked, his rational side clinging to just enough control to maintain some semblance of technique.

He found a rhythm- nibbling lightly at the little bud of nerves before devouring her in long strokes and repeating- that made her yank at his hair and keen, and his soul exulted in the noise. Belle was crying out for him, for all of him. He was pleasing her.

She grew louder, and it still wasn't enough. He wanted her screaming for him, to give her so much pleasure that she couldn't stay quiet. Thrusting his tongue into her, he drank her down as she shuddered, and he replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them against that place that made her scream as he concentrated his licks on his most favorite place.

Her shout echoed through the room, and he didn't hesitate, keeping up his rhythm until she was shaking, her voice breaking on her cries of joy. He could do this forever. He could do nothing but this and considered himself lucky if only she would keep making those wonderful noises, rewarding him for being a good mate.

Firm hands suddenly braced themselves against his shoulders and shoved him away from her, and he cried out in desperate protest. Before he could beg for her forgiveness for whatever transgression he'd committed, Belle hopped off the console and turned around, draping herself over it and letting him see _everything_.

"Inside me," she demanded, and his shaking hands couldn't get his jeans off fast enough. In one thrust he was in, her body wrapping around him so tightly that he saw stars.

"My Belle… my mate…" he rasped, blanketing her with his body as he nibbled at her ear, whispering words of love and worship as he started to thrust. The beast, sated, allowed him to push it aside and reclaim control, both of them working together to please Belle.

She was his. He'd claimed her, and she'd stay with him always. They were a pair, a team, and he would never be alone again. "My beautiful Belle…"

"My Nick," she purred in return, and he jerked against her, thrusting harder. No truer words had ever been spoken.

"All yours," he vowed, "Forever."

"Forever," she echoed, arching back into his pounding thrusts, and it almost sent him over the edge.

His fingers found the bud between her legs and teased it until she was quivering beneath him, rocking her hips back to take him even deeper. Rush managed to hold on until he felt the first flutters of her orgasm before losing control, slamming into her as he spilled himself deep within her. With an effort, he maintained the presence of mind to keep moving, drawing out her orgasm even as the gentle friction made his eyes roll back in his head.

He kissed the back of her neck, aware that his weight must be uncomfortable, and he pulled out with a groan, hating the loss of connection. Belle turned over to smile up at him, looking mussed and flushed and very well-loved, and the beast preened at the sight of her. "_Now_, I'm ready to turn in," she informed him, and he found their clothes, pulling his shirt gently over her head and helping her keep her balance as she struggled into her jeans.

His own shirt and waistcoat he didn't bother with, Belle's soft body pressed against his side keeping him warm as they made their way back to their quarters. "You're moving in here, right?" he asked as he escorted her through the door, and to his relief she nodded at once.

"Of course."

He tucked her into bed, lying on top the covers next to her as her blue eyes slipped closed. He stroked her her hair until she fell asleep, twining her chestnut curls around his fingers. "I love you," he told her, pressing a tender kiss to her cheekbone.

Rush wasn't the slightest bit tired, but the thought of returning to work held no appeal. He just wanted to lie here beside his mate and admire her. Belle looked even more beautiful with his marks on her neck, and he wished there was a way to make them permanent.

Belle's hand was resting on the pillow beside her head, and he leaned down to press a kiss to the back of it, gazing at her fingers. It was too soon to propose, and they could hardly get married out here anyway. The thought of Young presiding over their wedding was a hideous thought. That would have to wait until they were back on Earth, assuming they ever made it. In the meantime, he wanted something else- a tangible sign that they were a pair.

Reluctantly getting off the bed, he left the room in search of a box he was certain he'd seen in one of the storage rooms. It had been filled with varying lengths of chain, and he hadn't seen a use for it at the time. Now an idea was nagging at him.

It took him an hour to find it, but he managed to unearth two short lengths of sturdy chain and a few bits of wire. The links were the smallest he could find, but they were still too large to be truly decorative. Still it was the best he could come up with at the moment, and it would do for now. Taking his prizes with him, Rush made his way back to their quarters, pleased to find Belle exactly where he'd left her.

With careful fingers he wrapped one length of chain around her right wrist, twisting one of his bits of wire around the end links to form a clasp, leaving her with a makeshift bracelet. He repeated the process with his own right wrist, struggling with the wire until the chain was secure.

Looking from his wrist to hers, he nodded in satisfaction. Love bites would fade, but unless she took it off, the bracelet was going nowhere. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he dimmed the lights and crawled beneath the covers, wrapping himself around his mate as he settled in to sleep.

When he awoke, Belle was propped up on her elbow beside him, her arm pressed against his, and Rush remembered how he'd spent his last waking moment the previous night. A bit nervous about her reaction, he instead looked at the matching bracelets they wore, and the rightness of the vision made him sigh and the beast purr.

"We seem to have acquired jewelry," Belle said evenly, and he nodded, not taking his eyes off the bracelets.

"You don't have to wear it. If you don't want to," he told her, feeling strangely shy. It was just a bit of chain and wire. It didn't actually mean anything, yet he felt like his heart would break if she took it off.

"There's no way you're getting this off me," she informed him, and the beast roared in triumph. Rush had to bite his tongue to keep from echoing it.

Instead he pounced on her, pinning her beneath him on the bed with her wrists next to her head. Ducking, he licked at the bracelet, nibbling the delicate skin on either side of it. "I hoped you'd say that."

Belle laced their fingers together, and he clung to her hands, hearing the soft clink of their bracelets bumping together. "You're mine," she whispered, "This proves it."

"Always yours," he promised, his voice thick. "_Always_."

"And I'm yours," she murmured, and he sobbed as his mouth found hers. Belle had seen him at his most vulnerable and his most callous. She'd seen him fall apart from stress and be a manipulative bastard, and she still loved him. She was his and willing to advertise his claim on her to everyone they met. He didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve her, but he was keeping her forever.

"Mine," he growled against her lips. "_Mine_."

Keeping their hands clasped, Belle managed to roll them over, settling herself on top of him and wriggling until she'd lined them up. With a rock of her hips, he slipped into her, and he tightened his hold on her fingers as she clenched around him, drawing him deeper still.

"My Nick," she cooed. "My mate."

"My Belle. All mine." He had Belle, and he had Destiny. Rush didn't need anything more out of life.

Their bracelets moved as she rose and fell above him, the soft clinking noise they made as they touched just as beautiful as her soft moans of pleasure. He thrust up to meet her, letting her brace her weight on his hands as she moved above him.

He lost himself in her eyes, feeling like she was gazing at his naked soul. Everything in him was hers, and everything that was good in him, she'd brought back to life. He _belonged_ to her, and the greatest miracle of his life was that she was willing to belong to him too.

It was slow and tender and gentle, and it seemed to last for hours as they made love, their bodies striving for closeness even more than pleasure. There was something ceremonial about it, a sense that this was bigger than the two of them. Whether or not they ever married, they were committing themselves to each other through this act.

"Mine," he rasped, saying it for the sheer pleasure of knowing it was true. "My Belle. Mine."

She shuddered above him, and he arched his back, pushing himself deeper as she tightened around him. He rocked his hips, drawing it out as she trembled and moaned, and only when she slumped forward to mouth at his neck did he allow himself to take his own pleasure, spilling himself deep inside of her.

Belle licked his throat soothingly as the world reassembled itself, and he released her hands to wrap his arms around her, drawing her closer yet. "We should get to work," she murmured against his skin, and the beast grumbled at the thought.

"Later," he said carelessly, tilting her chin back to claim her mouth. Later they'd leave their nest and save the ship again. He might even fix the radio he'd destroyed. For now, all the beast wanted to do was snuggle with his mate, and in that they were in perfect agreement.


End file.
